Silvered Dancer
by Jack Trader
Summary: When Ched Nassad in the Underdark fell into the pit, a young adolescent drow priestess named Vikii D'Vreeze, blaming Lolth for her loss, betrayed her for Eilistraee. One dream quest later, she found herself in a river valley in northern Faerûn. A bad girl, trying to be a good girl, and failing with comic consequences, this is a series of short stories which follow her adventures.
1. Chapter 1 - Viti Hadda Sorch

**Each of the following 'chapters' are short stories, complete in and of themselves, based in part on events, directly recorded, or inspired, by role-players during my three year jaunt in the various Neverwinter Nights persistent worlds. Since many of these characters have been developed over the years, I choose to tell each story as a flashback through the recollections of S'nae D'Vreeze, the Bard of the family.**

* * *

S'nae D'Vreeze looked over the latest group of adventurers which the ship had disgorged from the holds. Like all adventuring groups 'just off the boat' they were still struggling to get their bearings. They had come up to the Plaza Tymora and noted the great Temple of Tymora, the Adventurer's Guild Hall to the temple's right, and a very large hole which could have been a basement had there been a building on top of it. They had been wondering aloud why all the adventurers were seated around this hole and calling it, 'The Bar'.

She smiled at them, enjoying the expressions on their faces. Their looks suggested a little fear and a great deal of suspicion. It didn't help in the least that she was wearing the Beldin Piper uniform, her bag pipes slung over her shoulder, her jaunty black beret, white blouse, blue and grey plaid woolen skirt, black supple leather calf boots, and a grey woolen cape which gently rippled in the breeze.

"I suppose you are wondering why everyone here is calling this hole in the street 'the bar'?" she queried in a musical sing song tone.

"Um . . . Yeah?" suggested what was apparently the ringleader of this band of adventurers, who referred to themselves as Hengist's Hackers.

"Such a bright fellow!" suggested S'nae with a teasing grin. "Well you are looking at the foundation for the new Fearthegn's Bar. The old one has a bit of a story behind it. You see, Alan figured if he built it in the swamp of the delta ten miles down, he'd catch all the adventurers before they ever arrived in the town. Everyone of course said he was daft to build a bar in the middle of the delta, but he built it anyway . . . Just to show them."

"And?" asked Hengist.

"It sank into the swamp," replied S'nae in a matter of fact tone. "So he built a second one. That one sank into the swamp as well. Then he build a third inn. That one burned down, fell over, and _then_ sank into the swamp. But the fourth one . . ."

"I suppose you are going to say that one sank into the swamp as well?" snapped Hengist.

"Yes but only to the fourth story." finished S'nae. "And you can see it there to this day.

"Oh come on now!" shouted Hengist. He folded his arms and snorted. "Do you expect me to believe that drow?"

S'nae's eyes went wide.

"Drow?" she queried. "Drow? Just because I have silver hair, deep grey skin, ruby red eyes, I'm short, have dashingly stunning good looks, not to mention an attitude, use the phrase idiot-male on a routine basis, and have been telling you a pack of lies; you assume that I'm drow? The _nerve_ of some people. Just jumping to a conclusion like that."

She turned to the collected adventurers seated at their various make shift tables.

"I appeal to fellow adventurers!" she cried dramatically holding her arms wide facing the collected assembly. "Is there not a Faerthegn's Bar sunk up to the fourth story in the delta swamp?"

Nearly all of those adventurers present had been part of that magical misadventure where the bar had been teleported from it's foundations in the Plaza Tymora to the swamp where it had sunk into it's depths just three days prior. So naturally they all concurred.

S'nae turned and gave Hengist and his hackers a 'See I told you so' look.

"Must be some sort of initiation rite," muttered Hengist to himself.

S'nae, still grinning, turned and sauntered away and saw one of her families old friends, Delanna laughing and bending forward in mirth.

"Oh Sisi!" she howled. "That reminds me of something which happened back a few years before you were born with your older sister . . ."

* * *

It was shopping day for Delanna. She paused as she checked up her list and made sure she had gotten everything, brushing her long black bangs from in front of her moon elven eyes, bright shimmering emerald green, and small bobbed nose . . . Yes, there it was, strawberries for the pie, elf-root for the healing potions, and clean woven linen bandages for the Healer's Guild. She had gotten them all. Looking up at the bell tower clock which towered over the market plaza of Beldin, her eyes adjusting to the glare of the sun, she noted that it was still before mid-day. She paused and noted the salt air tang in the air. The wind was off the Sea of Swords, blowing north into the Karen River Valley. There would be time for a nice lunch in The Bar.

The Fearthegn's Bar (It's where it are) had been run by the Fearthegn family since time out of mind. Alan was the barkeep and nearly all the adventurers in the Adventurer's Guild would hang out there when not busy saving the world from the latest explosion of evil which marked typical day to day affairs in the Forgotten Realms. Turning, she began to wind her way through the bustle of the mercantile section of town towards the stairs which would take her down to the dock plaza where the Bar, the Temple of Tymora, and The Adventurer's Guildhouse were located. There were just a few streets she would need to cross and then, she paused.

There, peaking out from between barrels in the shady awnings of a local smith, was silver mussed hair, ebony stained skin, wide ultraviolet eyes, a pert little nose, and a slightly opened mouth. It was a drow child, but not any drow child. For starters such children were a very rare sight, even in as cosmopolitan town as Beldin, filled with adventurers, sons of adventurers, and grand-daughters of adventurers from all parts of Faerûn. But likewise this one was known quite well by Delanna, and this little drow girl had a name, specifically M'randa, First Daughter, House D'Vreeze, or as Delanna called her, Mimi. But that was not all that was special. For M'randa had a quality which was nearly impossible to achieve in drow culture due to the manipulations that Lolth had inflicted upon drow fertility. M'randa had a twin sister, R'seria, Second Daughter, House D'Vreeze, whom Delanna called Rhorho. And for the first time in Delanna's memory, M'randa was not with her twin sister. Likewise, M'randa was barely six in human years, which put her maturity level at about three. Delanna highly doubted that Vikii, her mother, would let her wander like this.

It was a mystery, but one no doubt solved easily in no time since Delanna was an optimistic young moon elf and seldom expected trouble. She smiled, waved to M'randa to come over, and the little girl promptly scurried out of her little shelter and grabbed Delanna's hand looking up at her smiling.

"Hello Mimi," said Delanna. "You are having a busy day?"

"Hi Anidel," replied M'randa. Officially Delanna was Aunt Delanna in the D'Vreeze household due to a long time friendship with Vikii, another very rare thing in Faerûn. M'randa's vocal chords were still developing however, and she could not say her t's and th's.

"What are you doing out here so far away from your home in the Bar?" queried Aunt Delanna.

"Mamo's mad," explained Mimi. Vikii being a formal woman when it came to drow culture, insisted on her children calling her Matron Mother. M'randa had not reached the state of sophistication to call her that.

"Mad?"

"Ad Rhorho," continued the child.

"But why on earth for?" queried Delanna. Now of course drow children and trouble go together like ice and cream, sun rise and daylight, or Mass and Effect (specifically Shepherd and Tali). But it was one of those unexplained mysteries of Beldin that the D'Vreeze twins were always perfect little angels around Delanna. As far as everyone else was concerned, the twins could be mischievous, that is, blood was copiously shed, but these things always happened outside of Delanna's loving gaze.

"For sperimen," explained Mimi very calmly.

"Experimenting?" clarified Delanna.

"Uh huh?" answered M'randa nodding her head for confirmation.

"What sort of experiment?"

"'member our Birday party?" asked Mimi.

Delanna nodded and tried to smile. It had started out charming enough. The twins had a nice cake and candles with singing and little games. But then Jerry, the fiery red haired priestess of Suné, and and Shovelface, a loud and rowdy half-orc had proposed taking the twins on . . . An Adventure. It was also clear that Vitrine, the mischievous Tiefling from the Raven's Ravagers adventuring party, and her sidekick, Pellifer, also of the Ravagers were in on the scheme for they had promptly agreed and everyone effectively outvoted Vikii who's rights as a mother were conveniently overlooked or simply ignored. Things had happened too fast for Delanna to decide for or against Vikii so she had retired to make more tea placing herself conveniently out of earshot as Vikii grumbled to herself about surface elven treachery.

The adventure was to be held in a very local deep dark dungeon, specifically the basement of the Fearthegn's Bar. Shovel and Jerry were already gone and Vitrine provided the twins with magic weapons, specifically socks filled with flour. They were likewise equipped with magic shields which looked very much like Shovel's shoes, and then magic armor, which looked very much like blankets from the Bar's common bunkhouse. The twins could have been described as being in a high state of excitement and Vikii, her own upbringing described charitably as highly dysfunctional, was left without any stratagem to make this Not Happen. Thus Vikii, still struggling to come up with sensible reasons to head this off, was left behind as Delanna returned with a new pot of tea while the twins went off with Vitrine and Pellifer.

It ended with one of those "I could have told you so" moments. The twins and their adventuring companions arrived in the basement when suddenly a dragon costume came out from behind the beer barrels bellowing. It was Shovel in the front and Jerry in the back, but the twins did not know that. It then unleashed a great gout of flame, which was one of those cantrips which Pellifer had prepared before hand. Again, it was something the twins were not aware of. Then with Pellifer unleashing firey gouts of flames (all illusional) and Vitrine busy in front with her rapier parrying the swiping claws of the dragon, the twins let into the beast with their flour socks.

Shovel did a masterwork job of acting like a ferocious dragon, and if he had died when he was supposed to, it's possible that things would have ended on a good note. But Shovel was not that impressed with the illusory gouts of flame and of course he was barely feeling the sock maces, so he bellowed that puny people were not going to hurt him and charged even more ferociously. Well Vitrine did a skillful job of pretending to be panicked and Pellifer was more than capable of unleashing fireballs and magic missiles of an illusory sort but the twins, their eyes going bright red, recognizing with that ancient drow instinct that their sock weapons were insufficient for the task, ducked into the shadows, switched them out for their daggers, for all drow children are given daggers when they get old enough to walk, and proceeded to attack the most intelligent spot on the dragon, that being it's end opposite of the breath weapon. This was Jerry's delicate posterior.

She ended up with five stab wounds in her backside and upper back thighs and Shovel, in the middle of this crises suffered one of his notorious bouts of flatulance. Accordingly, the birthday party had ended with Vikii casting heal wounds spells on Jerry while Delanna persistently fanned her face with a rose scented fan.

"Viti hadda sorch," explained M'randa.

"A sorch?" queried Delanna. She was totally clueless as to what M'randa was talking about. But she figured that if she asked enough questions, she would figure it out soon enough.

"And?" she asked.

"Wanded a sorch," continued Mimi. "So I say sou Rhorho, 'led's gedda sorch,' and she says, 'ok', so ids nod my fauld."

"How did you get this sorch?" Delanna's forehead was creasing in it's typical fashion which marked her beginning to worry.

"Rhorho ged chair leg," explained M'randa.

"A chair leg . . ."

"Uh huh, and sads why Alan's mad."

"Alan's mad? Alan Fearthegn?"

"Yeah, he was in chair when Rhorho ged the leg."

"He was?"

"He fall down, go crack, and yells. Rhorho run away with leg. So ids nod my fauld."

There was a curious acrid smell coming off the shoreline to the south. Several people noted it and were looking in that direction while someone on horseback rode by rapidly heading north.

"Then we ged pinesdicky and sawduss," continued M'randa. "And we pud id on the sorch. We made a ball on de end of chair leg." She pantomimed making a round object with her two small hands.

"That's nice dear," suggested Delanna who was struggling to figure out just what the twins had been trying to make. A rattle of horse hooves on the cobblestones, the crackling of metal rimmed wheels rolling over the same, and the clanging of a loud bell marked the sudden rapid passage of a great water wagon heading south. More people were now dashing south as well. Something was clearly happening and this little child needed to be gotten to her mother.

"Why don't we go see Mommy now," suggested Delanna.

"Mamo mad!" insisted M'randa, stamping her foot for emphasis. "An ids nod my fauld!"

Delanna sighed. She did not feel like dragging M'randa down the street. It just was not in her heart to be firm with the child, especially since M'randa was explaining things in her own time.

"Okay Hunny," suggested Delanna. "What happened next?"

"So we need lam oil," continued Mimi. "And Rhorho spilled id."

"Spilled lamb oil?"

"I think so," replied M'randa. She had put her finger on her mouth, much like her mother did when she was trying to figure something out.

The temple tower bells were starting to ring out the alarm all over the town. Delanna knew that M'randa needed to be gotten back to her mother and sister. Vikii was no doubt sick with worry if not in a full panic. But she had to keep calm! She worked on keeping the fidgets down to the mild setting and continued to get the story out of M'randa.

"So what did you do then?"

"I told Rhorho to lid sorch and she lid sorch under bed," finished M'randa. "An Mamo come in an scream ad us and I run away 'cause ids Rhorho's fauld."

Delanna gently began to lead M'randa south down the street.

"Let's go find Mamo at the Bar," She suggested.

"Cand," replied M'randa.

"Why not Mimi?"

"Cause sorch sed Bar on fire," finished M'randa.


	2. Chapter 2 - Lolth Comes to Beldin

It was only the first tenday past the first sunrise, but for a pair of Beldin Pipers, there was scant time left before the beginning of the long day, only eleven tendays away. Before then, the play they were working on would have to be finished, staged, choreographed, and polished to perfection for the crowds who would be celebrating the beginning of that curious 60 day period in which the sun never set over the Karen River Valley.

"We have to have a proper climax," grumbled Melody. Her hair was that curious cross between red and brown. One never knew exactly what color it was supposed to be. She looked up at S'nae. The fact that S'nae was looking back with silver hair and flashing red eyes had no direct impact on Melody. Melody was quite used to working with a drow musician.

"What's wrong with killing a dragon?" queried S'nae. She chewed absent minded on the end of her quill pen.

"Every one is killing dragons these days," replied Melody throwing her hands up to the level of her shoulders. "It's been done to death in all the theaters from here to Calimshan."

"We could have them kill a divine avatar," suggested S'nae. "That way when all of them but the hero dies in the fight, people will be amazed that the hero in fact survives."

"Like anyone is going to believe that a group of adventurers are going to kill a divine avatar," argued Melody.

"Oh?" queried S'nae. "Did you not know about my mother's encounter with Lolth?"

* * *

One can not remain a Priestess of Eilistraee upon the surface without drawing the ire of Lolth, the dread goddess queen of spiders and drow. Especially if you happen to be Vikii D'Vreeze, who had been raised as a Priestess of Lolth. She had sacrificed her first surfacer when she was only a child of 20 and had been so proud of her accomplishment, she had refused to wash the blood off of the vestments for weeks. But Ched Nassad had been destroyed during the silence of Lolth and Vikii, still young enough to imagine that Lolth did not whimsically leave her people to die, saw this as a great betrayal. She had openly renounced Lolth and had embraced Eilistraee, not really knowing what this actually entailed. It is to the credit of Eilistraee that she took in this errant 28 year old drow girl, barely into adolescence, and put her through a dream quest which led her over the next 18 months to the surface where she emerged in the back of a cave in the Karen River Valley. From there it was down the river to Beldin and now at 46, Vikii was a proud mother of twins. The drow man who had been the father had run off to Sigil to become a Baelnorn, and as Vikii hated undead, she refused to speak of him ever again.

By the time Lolth, being ever the whimsical diety, got around to actually doing something directly to Vikii, the girl was well established in Beldin and folks had gotten used to the idea that there was a genuine female Matron Mother in the city who was capable of being polite, considerate, and on occasion, quite charitable. She was likewise at the full bloom of her physical attractiveness. Her hair, worn up and secured with long red and silver hair pins could fall to her ankles when she was dancing. Her clothing was typically long and flowing. Her face both gentle and mischievous depending on the type of smile she employed. The only criticism that most folks found about her was her modesty issues. Specifically she had none what so ever. It wasn't just her hair that fell to her ankles while she was dancing. She was a Priestess of Eilistraee which meant she worshiped and led public worship naked. And in Eilistraee rites, worship involved mostly dancing under the moon light. And in Beldin, the Long Night was sixty days long from the last Sunset to the First Sunrise. That was a lot of moonlit night hours to fill with worship rites. While Seluné was way more popular in Beldin, Eilistraee had, thanks to Vikii's enthusiasm, gathered not a little following. And when you are naked that often, you can forget that youthful female beauty is not only a great distraction for the guys, it often provokes jealous outrage among their girlfriends, fiancés, and wives. And it didn't help that Vikii was more than aware she was physically attractive and not at all afraid to be the tease when she thought it would help her accomplish her latest goal.

Of course Lolth had not directly come the first time. Like all deities, she employed her minions for the first few efforts. But Lolth had failed to do her homework. She had not connected the fact that Beldin had often been in the cross-hairs of various evil deities of Faerûn and the consequences this suggested. Suffice to say, the many Adventurers of Beldin had a merry time slaughtering monstrous spiders and waves of Drow Wizards and fanatic priestesses leading compelled driders to attack and slay. When it was all over with, Lolth concluded that if you wanted something done proper, you were going to have to do it yourself.

It was in the Plaza Tymora that Lolth made her appearance. There in front of the great Temple of Tymora, Goddess of Luck and Adventuring, the adventurers would gather, after hearty meals, to swap stories, tell lies about their exploits, and form plans for their next outing into the myriad ruins and caves of the valley. Accordingly, everyone was well fed and in a good mood when she arrived. Vikii was there with Savarre her Sun Elf buddy who was the husband of Delanna. Likewise Jerry, the fire haired Priestess of Suné was also available and the three of them were comparing fashion tips and secrets. Jerry was of course determined to make the world the most beautiful place possible and she started with herself. Savarre was a most enthusiastic participant in fashion circles, especially in regards to his hair which he always spent hours upon making sure it was perfectly cut and combed and brushed to frame his face and render him a most handsome sun elf. Vikii? She already knew she was beautiful naked, but since society required the wearing of clothing on normal occasions, she was determined to be as beautiful as possible while dressed.

That was when there was a sudden shifting of the earth. A great hole opened up into the middle of the plaza, and out stepped Lolth surrounded by small scuttling black widow spiders. The reaction was somewhat expected. While the adventurer's of Beldin were used to surprises of a very nasty sort, being adventurers and all, Lolth was one of the bigger surprises in their experience. Having just had a hearty lunch, they were almost in unison buffing up their defensive spells and drawing their weapons and sincerely praying that they would live to have a hearty supper. Especially since it was Roast Beef Night at the Bar.

And into the middle of this sudden frenzy of fear and anxiety stepped Vikii. She bore no weapon nor wore no armor, merely a long formal dress in black and red with silver thread trim. She smiled sweetly at Lolth, and performed a formal Drow curtsy.

"Darling Lolth," she said.

There were nervous eyes darting back and forth and wonderment at what new treachery was about to break forth.

"Dearest Vikii," replied Lolth, bound to that curious custom of polity which marked all drow interactions. Her eyes narrowed.

"You can only suspect how happy I am to see you," continued Vikii. She adopted a formal Drow handclasp. As a dancer, she was more than perfectly capable of forming a precise and reverent posture of submission to the Goddess. Likewise Lolth knew how to read people swiftly and accurately. It was obviously a surprise to her when she realized that Vikii was, in fact, happy to see her. Her eyes widened.

"My daughter," she said. Her mind was racing. What was this former Priestess doing?

"For if it hadn't been for you, I should not be what I am today," continued Vikii.

Lolth's eyes widened. This was simply beyond her. How could her actions in the past be credited to Vikii's recent accomplishments? But her pride quickly assumed that it had to be her early ministrations to House D'Vreeze before Ched Nassad had fallen into the flames.

"You have done the most wonderful thing you could do," continued Vikii. "For your actions threw me into the hands of your most beloved daughter, Eilistraee!"

"My daughter?" asked Lolth weakly. A sick feeling permeated her avatar, and her rage began to gather. She had walked right into a veiled insult from Vikii. To be so outwitted by a mere mortal was bad enough, but from one who had not only left her service but now held her in utmost contempt was abominable. Vikii's happiness was now clear. She had been thrilled at the opportunity to spit in Lolth's face. But what made it most angering was the simple fact that it was all delivered as flattery of the most sincere sounding sort.

And Vikii was off like a shot, her speech rapid as she piled the insults on. It was Lolth who had destroyed her city, it was Lolth's training of treachery in her students who had caused her to betray Lolth for Eilistraee, and it was Lolth's own daughter, born from her own womb who had given to Vikii a home, children, status, and the love of the folk of Beldin.

"And I have even been invited to Evermeet!" she added, bouncing up and down. "Isn't that wonderful?"

Lolth did not share Vikii's enthusiasm for that at all.

"And it's all because of you and what you did to me! I am so grateful! And it's so wonderful to see you and see how healthy you are and especially well fed," continued Vikii smiling and chattering swiftly and easily. "It's so obvious! I mean, look at your thighs, your hips, your waist, and your face!"

Behind Lolth, about twenty feet, stood Raven, the head of Raven's Ravagers. She looked at her two of her chief companions, Vitrine and Pellifer, who were adjacent to her, and mouthed a silent, "Did she just call Lolth fat?" Vitrine, somewhat trembling, nodded in the affirmative. Raven, not lacking in courage, was likewise famed for her discretion. And so the three of them slipped quietly away.

Lolth's rage was by now complete. Her face was twisted into a bizarre expression of gritted teeth, wide eyes, squinting cheek muscles, and thrust jaw. She opened her mouth and shrieked. For one instant, she froze into a tableau of impending coiled strike while all of the plaza Tymora waited, frozen in a single eternal instant of time.

In order for a God or Goddess to interact with the Prime Material Plane, they need an avatar. This avatar must by necessity be composed of Prime material for this interaction to be effective. But the Prime Material plane is composed of material which is in flux and who's slightest change can produce a complete shift in it's state in nature. Fire, with a little water, will die in a cloud of steam. A God therefore must be ever so careful with their avatar for nothing in the Prime Material plane can endure their full power. Discipline is essential. Unfortunately Lolth was not disciplined. The most capricious of deities, she did not regard that as an essential component of her being.

Accordingly, when her body just collapsed with a little gurgle escaping her mouth, the sages were not surprised. Neither was Vikii. That had been her plan from the moment Lolth had shown up.

Vikii looked at Lolth's carcass, one hand on her hips and one finger over her mouth for a moment, deep in thought.

"Savarre?" she asked.

"Yes, Vikii," he responded next to her.

"I do believe Lolth has died of an aneurism."

"It would appear so, Vikii."

"I feel very happy about this. And I'm not sure I should be. After all, she was is a goddess. And do not goddesses deserve some respect given their power and majesty?"

"But a very evil Goddess," observed Savarre. "And besides, you only destroyed her avatar. She's perfectly safe back in the Demon-web pits.

I was not kind to her. Eilistraee might be disappointed. But I could atone by raising her," suggested Vikii with eyes wide and a happy smile upon her face.

"Vikii?" suggested Savarre feeling a little bead of sweat starting to form on his forehead. "I do believe that everyone right now is very grateful that Lolth's avatar is dead on the plaza. I don't think they would appreciate her coming back."

"Are you sure?" queried Vikii. Her face was an expression of youthful naive sincerity. Only the slightest twinkle in the eyes gave any hint she was playing with his mind.

"Oh my Goddess if you do this I'm going to faint!" stammered Jerry rapidly fanning herself. "I'll drop to the ground, my armor will be all scratched and when I wake back up Beldin will be a flaming ruin and my hair will be a mess!"

"I do believe your Goddess would understand if you did not," suggested Savarre.

"Are you sure?"

"I am positive," he replied swiftly. You never knew with Vikii.

"But I need do something kind, I need to atone," she objected.

"There are the twins," he suggested.

"Savi!" she said, her face brightening. "What a wonderful idea!"

She turned and let loose a "Mimi Rhorho" keen that filled the air with a high pitched tone which could be heard for blocks.

Two tousled silver haired little heads popped up from behind a stack of boxes a half block away.

"Look at what your matron mother has for you," she called gesturing towards the form that had been Lolth.

The twins leaped from their hiding place with cries of "yippee, dead body, play doctor, yay" and scampered towards the prone avatar. Behind them, a small white fluffy bunny, whom they had been playing with, used what was left of it's muscular structure to crawl to a corner where it was able to achieve death with dignity a few short spasms later.

The twins ran up to the body and reached for it, but were paused by a clearing of Vikii's throat. They looked up and she looked back at them intently. Suddenly they stood straight, put their hands in a formal handclasp with shoulders back.

"Thank you matron mother," they chimed in perfect unison.

"You're most welcome," replied Vikii smiling benignly.

They lunged. M'randa grabbed the left leg and R'seria grabbed the right leg and both went in opposite directions. Fortunately, Lolth was the sort of Goddess who believed in wearing pants and not skirts sans underwear. Vikii preferred the latter outfit selection.

"Secret spot four!" snapped M'randa, yanking to the left.

"Secret spot six!" shouted R'seria, yanking to the right.

"Four, doofus!"

"Six, jaluk!"

This macabre tug of war and insult exchange suddenly turned more serious as little long thin daggers were drawn. Bloodshed was averted by a sharp sudden crack, the sort that occurs when two small skulls are slammed together by a pair of young matron mother hands with the speed, grace, and fluidity which only comes from long and diligent practice.

The twins swayed with curious and somewhat goofy expressions on their faces as Vikii stepped back from administering the punishment.

"Secret spot seven, girls," she said.

The twins looked at the smiling and happy face of Vikii and knew in an instant what dire fate awaited them if they argued otherwise. Together, they started the struggle of dragging the dead body down the street, a slow process, but one which they would be persistent at until successful. It wasn't every day they got to play with a dead body.

As they went down the street, they passed a pair of adventurers, one, a young red headed Bounder, named Keyna who turned to her orc companion, Shovel and said, "Now that's one of the things I like about the darklins here. They know how to clean up after themselves."

Savarre turned back to Vikii as other friends closed in to offer support, congratulations, and good stiff drinks.

"Secret spot seven?" he asked.

"Well, Jerry hasn't had anything interesting to watch out of her kitchen window for a while . . ." she observed.

Jerry paled.

"But you know where all their secret spots are?" continued Savarre, hoping he would be able to get her to understand his amazement. "By number?"

"Why of course, Savi," replied Vikii with a smile. "You have to know things like that when you're a Matron Mother."


	3. Chapter 3 - SCIENCE!

A gentle rain was falling upon the roof of the Bard's Hall. And down in the common room the various bards and pipers were busy at their musical interludes and story swapping when Melody stomped in holding, in a glass jar, a small green bug. There was a very distinct 'euw' expression on her face, mixed with not a little drama and wrath.

"All right!" she shouted. "Who put this thing in my bed?"

Of the twenty two pairs of eyes in the room, all but three pairs gazed upon S'nae. One of those pairs belonged to S'nae and could not look at themselves. And the other two pairs were new members of the college and thus were unfamiliar with the personalities present. S'nae looked up, noticed the stares, placed her hands over her chest, spread fingered, and looked at Melody with a singular "Little ol' me?" expression.

"Yes," replied Melody who could read S'nae's expressions like a book. "You."

"But actually I didn't," insisted S'nae. "This time I am really quite innocent."

"Sisi," sighed Melody. "No one in this college brags about the lies they tell more than you."

"But seriously, I won't touch that thing. And because I won't touch it, I could not have put it in your bed."

"Drow are not afraid to play with black widows, red-backs, funnels, and brown recluses. Why would I think you would not want to touch this?" retorted Melody holding up the jar. "Or are you saying you are afraid of any bug which is not a spider?"

"Well . . ." started S'nae. "It was something that happened way back when . . ."

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night in the Mage's Guild. Spring was in Beldin and the warm currants from the southern seas were slamming right into the currants coming from the northern climes of Icewind Dale. When these two water currants brought air flows with them, you knew there were going to be violent thunderstorms in Beldin. But for Mendel in the tower on the north side of the Guild house, it was business as usual. He was oblivious to the crackles of lightning. He remained inured to the rolling rumbles of the thunder. But not only that, he was totally ignoring the splatters and patters of leaks in the roof, dropping a steady stream of water droplets into various pans, vases, and jars he had set for such an eventuality . . . several years prior. His large framed features and short cropped hair marked him out as a man of middling thirties, but he was far far older. As he puttered about his alchemy equipment, he failed to notice two pairs of drowling eyes and tiny hands, slowly and deftly pocketing various chemicals and beakers, and a much larger set of ultraviolet eyes, and a grey skinned wrinkling nose standing at the door frame.

"Mendel Greenwood, just **what** are you doing here?" asked Vikii D'Vreeze. She was dressed in a long formal outfit, in the D'Vreeze colors of deep black, blood red, and silver trim. Her long white hair was done up as usual, with a pair of hair pins at the back of her neck holding it up.

Mendel looked up and while he noticed Vikii, he remained entirely in the dark regarding the presence of her two daughters, M'randa and R'seria who were doing their best to keep out of sight due to the rapidly filling bags of chemicals and equipment, destined for some new childish atrocity elsewhere in the city.

"I can smell it all the way down to our town house," she insisted.

"Eh?" inquired Mendel.

Vikii, having learned over time that the best way to get a straight answer out of Mendel involved a long patient stare, simply waited and kept gazing at him. Behind her, coming up the stairs, was Savarre, his red and black noble's outfit looking snappy and debonaire, as usual, in spite of the dark room and sudden garish flashes of lighting. He reached the top of the stairs and looked past Vikii to Mendel. He to was used to Mendel's eccentricities but wanted to see what Vikii would do.

"Eh?" inquired Mendel again.

There was a new crack of lightning which brightly washed the room in the color of blinding white and Vikii winced. Her drow eyes never had gotten used to the sudden bright flashes of light which punctuated Beldin's thunderstorms.

"Well," continued Mendel. "So long as you are here, let me tell you of my experiment."

"Ah," replied Vikii. "Please do."

Savarre had of course promptly noticed the twins slinking along the wall with several large sacks. He gave them a bit of a wink and they replied with a 'hush' motion with their fingers and then drew the same fingers along the base of their throats. Being fraternal twins, they did this in perfect unison. Stereo drow as it were. His scalp twitched, a curious phenomena which he only experienced with the twins. There were reasons of course but they will be explored in later stories. Savarre simply directed his attention to Mendel as the twins slipped out of the door with their most recent loot.

"Well," began Mendel. "I've been studying the habits of Stink Beetle mating rituals and seeing if their musk, that stinking spray that they use, has anything to do with it."

"Oh," mused Savarre, utterly unimpressed. "How . . . Fascinating." He stifled a yawn.

"Can't seem to figure out it's effect though," continued Mendel. "I spray them with their musk and watch their behavior and can't seem to find any discernible pattern.

"Well that's easy enough," commented Vikii with an exasperated tone. "If you spray them and they mate, then it has an effect. If you spray them and they do nothing, then it doesn't. And if you spray them and they attack you, then you can be certain it has nothing to do with mating."

"Why!" exclaimed Mendel. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea," answered Vikii. She looked at Savarre and rolled her eyes.

"Ah perfect," mused Mendel busy scribbling in a note book. "But that isn't all."

"What else is there?" asked Savarre.

"I also wanted to see how the stink bug mating habits relate to the mating habits of Drow."

Vikii coughed and Savarre's eyes widened.

"So," said Mendel looking up. "If you will mate with Savarre."

"What?" asked Vikii not a little incredulous.

"Yes, mate with Savarre."

"Now?"

"No time like the present, we're here in my lab and I've got all my equipment handy with observation pad in hand."

"She's set me up," Savarre thought. "This is for that snowball incident."

Vikii was not used to, had never been trained to, and hadn't a clue on how to appeal on moral grounds such as the fact that she was once again happily pregnant by her consort Vharaun (the child would be named Chess'rina). Savarre was married to Delanna and had been for years. She accordingly objected in a standard drow fashion.

"I'm not in the mood, Mendel," she replied.

"But I'm here!" thought Savarre, then he mentally slapped his head. "Down boy, you're taken and you know it!"

"Bah!" cried Mendel. "Mood? THIS" he proclaimed "is SCIENCE!"

Had this been a cheesy horror movie from another time and place, there would have been a flash of lightning, a crack of thunder, and a sudden dramatic chord being played by a vast and elaborate organ. But this was Beldin and all that was heard was the howl of a cat trying to be let in next door.

Savarre was exhaling a sigh of relief. Now that he had time to think about it, he remembered just how sensuous and provocative Vikii could be when she wanted to be. There was something about her that could cause a man to drool. It was all in her hip action he was certain. She knew exactly how to move them from the lowest setting to the highest. And that was just when she was walking. So he presumed he didn't have to worry about Vikii coming on to him, and especially in front of Mendel. While he was not at all surprised by Vikii's refusal, at the same time the presentation of the option had made him not a little uneasy. He relaxed and then he saw that twinkle in her eye and mischievous grin, and a stark terror began to rise in him.

"Well," she observed with a tiny curl in her smile. "One must do one's duty for science."

"Help!?" thought Savarre.

"Do I really want help?" he thought again.

It was too late, she had turned to face him and was slowly walking towards him, that dancer shimmy in her hips, clearly set on the high side, as she approached, reaching out her arms to drape over his shoulders and curl around the back of his neck.

The sweat upon his forehead was profuse.

And now she her arms around him, and looked at him deeply into his eyes. Then she smiled and winked to him.

"Ok," she said, turning to Mendel. "Done."

"What?" exclaimed Mendel in surprise.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me, darling?" she murmured in a low silky voice to Savarre.

Savarre, who was famous all over Beldin for his talent at catching on swiftly replied, "Oh yes! You're always good, Vikii."

"Never imagined that Drow could mate so fast," Mendel muttered as he scribbled furiously into his notebook.

"We're going to have to do this again," he proclaimed. "This time with a timer."

Vikii sighed.

"How long do you think we can do this before the old kook catches on?" whispered Savarre. He put his hands on Vikii's waist to better play the game. And besides, it was fun to hold her.

"Who knows," replied Vikii. "Until then, let's have a little fun at his expense."

"Ok," announced Mendel, holding an elaborate and many geared and levered Gnomish time keeping device. "Begin!"

"Yes! Oh Yes! Goddess! YES!" cried Vikii.

"AH!" exclaimed Savarre. "Delanna!"

The two of them turned their heads to face Mendel.

He was still fiddling with the time keeping device, several of it's springs had leaped from it's interior and were scattered on the floor to the accompiament of small tinkling sounds.

"Bah!" he muttered. Then he scribbled into his note book.

"Less than a second," he concluded.

Suddenly, Vikii turned towards Savarre. Her eyes narrowed.

"Delanna?" she asked in a voice that sounded not unlike a tiger about to pounce upon a helpless little fawn.

"Vikii," objected Savarre. "Oh come now."

Mendel was busy with a new gnomish device, one which had a putrid green bottle at one end and a cone at the other.

"Delanna?!" she asked again, her eyes shifting from ultraviolet to a sandy brown.

"Well, if she were to ask," Savarre tried to explain. "I want to say I was thinking of her."

Mendel now was checking the workings of the device, making sure everything was screwed down tight and fitting proper.

"Vikii!" he whispered in a low voice. "It's not that we're doing anything!"

"That's not the point," hissed Vikii. "If I'm going to make love to you, even pretend, I don't care to hear you shout out another woman's name."

"Oh for the love of . . ."

Mendel now pointed the cone at the two. A low roll of thunder rattled the panes of the windows.

"What do you think I am; some cheap little streetwalker like Candy?"

"Of course not!" objected Savarre. "For one you have style!"

"Style!" silently shrieked Vikii through clenched teeth. "The difference between me and Candy is STYLE?"

Vikii's hands were now around Savarre's throat.

What would have happened next remains a unknown, for Mendel squeezed a trigger and Vikii and Savarre were suddenly engulfed in a green, wet, and putrid cloud.

"Ok," he announced. "Now that you have been sprayed with Stink Bug spray, how does this affect your mating?"

Vikii's eyes went wide and her mouth opened like a fish out of water. Savarre simply hacked. Vikii coughed.

"Gyah!" shouted Savoire.

"Bath!" screamed Vikii. "Bath!bath!bath!bath!bath!"

And the two of them dashed out of Mendel's tower, down the stairs, across the courtyard, and through the streets of Beldin tossing off clothing as fast as they could remove it heading as fast as they could for the public baths. Vikii of course, due to her habit of wearing only a dress over her body, was naked first and so for much of the mad dash, people observed a naked drow woman being chased by an undressing elf man. The fact that Mendel was running behind, as quickly as he could while taking notes, lent an aura of mystery to the entire affair which people decided they didn't really want to investigate too closely. Naturally some folks were offended and a few days later, a letter of reprimand came from the crown suggesting that it was inappropriate for Vikii to be seen naked in the streets. She dutifully filed it with the seven other letters of reprimand she had received in the past.

Both dived into the warm waters of the baths and Vikii commenced to dunk her head, lather her hair, and repeat the process over and over again while Savoire simply scrubbed his skin until it was red.

"You won't get it to wash off with soap and water," observed Mendel as he came in. "It has to wear off over time."

"Augh!" groaned Vikii once more before diving under the water.

"I can't show myself in public," sobbed Savarre. "Beldin will be bereft of my presence for tendays . . . oh how will they survive?"

"Antidote!" cried Vikii. "Antidote!"

"Antidote?" observed Mendel absentmindedly. "Why what a concept. I'll have to look into it."

Vikii shrieked.

Mendel began to wander off as Savoire looked at her and asked, "What do we do now?"

A sudden loud booming noise made the entire room vibrate just a bit and a sudden flash of lightning seemed to illumine Vikii's frame as she stood up and looked ahead.

"We'll sweat it off," she announced. "We'll go hunting and kill something or a lot of somethings, what ever it takes to get this stuff off of us."

"Good idea Vikii," cried Savoire as he stood up and proceeded to get himself dressed while Vikii sniffed a strand of her hair, turned green, in so far as her grey skin allowed it, and once more dived into the bath to lather and scrub.

It was at this point that Raven ran into the room.

"Where are the twins, Vikii?" she cried.

"Why do you ask?" questioned Vikii. "Last time I checked they were playing right behind . . . me?"

Vikii looked about.

"Now where did those two little scamps go?" she asked herself.

Savoire suddenly put two and two together.

"Um Raven" he asked. "That last clap of thunder?"

"Mendel's tower has just fallen down!" cried Raven, "There was an explosion at the base! It must have been lightning."

"Oh too bad," mused Savarre. "With all that science in rubble now."

"There is justice in the world," he thought with satisfaction. "Gonna have to give Mimi and Rhorho a little treat."

Shortly after he spotted the twins, sneaking along the sides of the walls down an alley.

"Darlings!" he cried. "Come give your Unkasavi a hug! Want some strawberry muffins?"

"Yeah!" cried M'randa and R'seria, dashing up to their darling Savarre.

"Now why is he so friendly with them all of a sudden?" mused Vikii.


	4. Chapter 4 - That Snowball Incident

**The reader may notice that this story was referenced in the prior story. That is because I am not posting these in a chronological order, rather, they are being recalled by S'nae was she lives her young life in Beldin. There are of course hints as to the chronology since during the RP sessions, I was keeping track of time so that Vikii's children were conceived, born, and growing up the entire time. **

* * *

Snow was falling in the streets of Beldin and S'nae was walking through it smiling. She loved snowfalls in winter. The night would be blanketed in silence and the white flakes would be illuminated by the lamps and lanterns of the myriad windows in the city. She paused, looked up and felt the flakes land upon her cheeks, and heedless of the folks around her, began to sing . . .

Snow is lightly falling,  
On my sill this quiet night,  
Slowly cooling all my worries,  
And fears that I must fight.

She twirled in the street and a few folks stopped to look at her. She smiled and winked at them back, for it was always good practice to spontaneously entertain in the streets. Such little advertisements helped with ticket sales for the musical events. She continued her song as she did this . . .

Silent and so softly,  
It falls upon the street,  
The very road where my true love  
and I will sweetly meet.

A sudden wiz through the air and a gentle plop and sudden lifting of her wide brimmed hat from the top of her head interrupted S'nae's improv.

"Ha! Got yew D'Vreeze!" cried Derrick of the Dumbledor adventuring party across the street and ten feet to the left. "Got yew raight and guod!"

"Whale Ja Luck!" shouted S'nae rapidly making her own snowball, heedless of her hat upon the street and her silvered bangs falling down about her face. The thing she was supposed to say was Wael Jaluk. But any language which she could not immediately apply to the popular arts was a language she could not be bothered with, and so, in spite of her mother's efforts, her Underdark Drow was atrocious.

Within seconds, the two of them were hurling snowballs thick and fast and shortly thereafter, more Dumbledors showed up, as did Bards and Pipers and so for fifteen minutes the street was filled with flying snowballs, battle cries, and laughter.

Having been hit over a dozen times and returning the favor as often, the battle ended as S'nae leaned against the wall panting and laughing.

"Heh," suggested Derrick, now leaning also on the wall next to her and looking at her with that teenage crush face that young men were wont to have in the presence of attractive and exotic looking girls. "Yew know raight how ta throw them yew dew." His country side accent was particularly thick tonight.

"Why not?" queried S'nae looking back at him and giving him a smile but otherwise no facial expression remotely capable of encouraging young love. "I was born and raised here."

"Yew were?" replied Derrick. This was new information for him.

"My mother is the refugee," explained S'nae. "And she had never encountered snow before . . ."

* * *

Savarre stood on the dock in front of the River Karen and took a moment to breath in the fresh cold biting air. He was, as usual, in immaculate condition, each strand of hair in perfect order and his red and black dyed outfit, trim, sharp, and snappy. Beside him Pellifer stood quietly, her things scattered about her, Vikii was still on the deck of the steamboat going through her list. Up a little higher, the town of Karenlynn stood firm against the northern cliff face of Astrid Rock.

Savarre looked about. New fallen snow was piled high upon several boxes and crates on the dock and he was suddenly inspired. Taking a cusp of snow in his hands, he began to meticulously pack it into a firm perfectly smooth round ball. This took him a few moment since it would have to be perfect. Nothing but the best for Savarre, even something as mundane as a snowball would require artistic expertise. Gently brushing it with his fingers, he was just finishing when he noticed Vikii was staring at him, open mouthed in amazement.

"You can do that to snow?" she asked.

Savarre was initially tempted to dismiss Vikii's comment as simply out of her character. While somewhat spacey at times, she was smart and possessed a good deal of horse sense. Then it dawned on him. She was from the Underdark and had only been on the surface a few years. Likewise, snowfalls in Beldin were rather infrequent thanks to the climate of the Karen River Valley. It would only be natural for her to not know much about snow.

"Why yes," he answered with a smile.

"What do you do with it?" asked Vikii. "Can you work magic by making it into a sphere?"

This was simply too good to pass up. Well, time to initiate Vikii into the wonders of snowballs.

"Well yes," answered Savarre grinning. "Most wonderful magic in fact."

"Really?" asked Vikii, wide eyed. She eagerly pranced over and leaned towards Savarre to get a better look at the snowball.

Savarre looked at her for a moment, her small girlish figure, with only a hint of bulge from her pregnancy (she had conceived triplets), all grace and style. Her face, utterly trusting in expression, was almost childlike.

"And now Vikii," he thought. "It's pay back time for all those sneaky little tricks and teases you've done to me ever since I knew you."

And he had quite a list.

There was the public advice on hemlines incident which had started it all. In the Bar, in front of all his friends, she had asked him what sort of hem should be on her skirt for summer. Pulling her skirt up literally one inch by one inch, each one a subtle shift, just a little higher and higher, she didn't stop lifting it slowly until she was at the top of her thighs, all the while asking, "Should it be this high? Or shall I raise it to this? Or maybe . . ." and so on. His eyes had glazed over and Jerry had been rolling on the ground in laughter while Delanna had been giggling and crying "Oh Hanali!" Delanna was a naive young moon elf and it had never dawned on her on what sort of tease Vikii was being with the male of the species.

Then the time he had taken a nap in his apartment with Delanna and Vikii discussing things. Vikii had leaned forward and had begun to imitate M'randa's voice while Delanna was imitating R'seria's and sounding like the two girls were about to give Savarre a new hair cut. He had leapt up screaming in terror only to find the two women laughing and slumped in their chairs exhausted by their amusement.

But the latest, the most irritating of all, was the time she had come on to him most passionately, insisting that she could resist him no longer. She just had to make love to him. His objections had been most genuine, his sweat pouring from his brow, reminding her that he was in love with Delanna. She had oozed charm and purred, assuring him that Delanna had given permission. And just when he was convinced he would collapse and yield to her sensuous writhing, she had said, "Ta Da! I changed my mind!" and left him a psychological wreak. Delanna's sudden giggles in the corner, along with Pellifer's laughter in another corner (for both women had been invisible and watching the entire thing) had been the straw which had broken the camel's back.

Revenge would be sweet. And this dish, being a snowball, would be served quite cold.

"Let me show you," suggested Savarre.

Pellifer's eyes were wide in amazement and she struggled to not smirk.

"Oh goody!" squealed Vikii doing her little bounce with the balls of her feet that her friends occasionally referred to as 'The Happy Vikii Dance'.

"Let's see," mused Savarre quietly, appearing to think deeply. "The magic is most effective if the conditions are right, so you stand at the end of the pier.

Vikii bounced over to the end of the pier all excited.

"How's this?" she called.

"Perfect," returned Savarre.

Pellifer was now openly smirking, covering her mouth with her hand. She knew what was about to take place and she was struggling to keep from giving it away. However Vikii, in her eagerness to see something new, did not catch on.

"Pose nicely now!" called Savarre.

Vikii went into a classic dancer pose, one foot in front of the other, her arms slightly extended out from her side, and her hands lifted and fingers spread. Her head was to the side, lifted just ever so slightly. It was a pose worthy of an oil painting.

"Like this?" She called.

"Beautiful!" cried Savarre. He held the snowball in his hand, palm up, fingers extended and lightly touching it while he looked over to Pellifer and grinned. Pellifer avoided his gaze, lest she lose complete control and fall into a fit of guffaws.

"Close your eyes!" called Savarre.

"Ok!" cried Vikii and closed her eyes, a small smile on her face as she eagerly waited for the 'magic'.

Savarre wound up and threw the snowball straight and sure, it's perfect sphere whistling through the air as it sped for it's intended target, which it hit right square and sharp.

Vikii felt the sting and wet bite of the snowball right on her left cheek, nose, and eye. The shock caused her to jump back, lift her leg, and she fell into a puddle of slush, ice, and water an inch deep, soaking her through from the thighs to the small of her back and hands. She opened her eyes in wide amazement and felt the sting of the bright sunlight upon them.

Savarre roared in laughter while Pellifer giggled. Bending over, he gasped for breath and cried. "Oh Vikii, you fell for that one!" Then he looked towards her.

"Gyah!" was all he could cry out.

For Vikii, her teeth bared, her fingers reaching in a clutch, curved with fingernails extended, and her eyes burning brightly red was closing in for the kill at full throttle. Apparently, the ancient homicidal breeding of Lolth into the fabric of the Drow had reasserted itself in Vikii.

Pellifer had covered her face and upper torso with her arms as Vikii had sped by and all Savarre could do was throw his hands out as she slammed into him and went into a grapple. The force of the impact, coupled with the ice and snow of the dock, caused both her and Savarre to skid back, fall, and land in the cold ice water of the river with a moist splooshing sound.

Both came up and shrieked in shock and chill.

Shortly thereafter, Savarre and Vikii were seated in a small side room in the bar. Pellifer had hung up their soaking and dripping ice encrusted clothing upon pegs while each of them were wrapped in thick towels, their feet in bases of warm water, and each holding a large clay mug of hot mulled wine.

Vikii looked at Savarre and smiled.

"So that's what you do with snowballs?" she asked with a grin.

"Yes," replied Savarre smiling back.

"You got me good Savi," she said. "I never saw that coming."

"I'm glad you're being such a sport about it," he said before adding after a pause. "now."

"Sorry," she said with a sigh. "The old drive just leaps out when you least expect it."

"No harm done," replied Savarre. "I'm used to it now."

"So, what's the score then?" she asked.

"I think we're even," replied Savarre.

"Oh goody," she said with a wicked little grin. "I can do something new to you."

Savarre coughed nervously.

"And hints or warnings?" he asked.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, her grin got slightly predatory, and then she stretched out on the chair, lifting her legs so they rested upon the arm rest. Then leaning further back and stretching her arms out beyond her head, she lifted her right leg up and stretched it as well. A lot of towel was sliding and revealing large sections of her grey skinned perfectly toned figure underneath.

"She can see me sweat," Savoire's thoughts muttered. "I just know it."

"Oh . . ." she said with a light purr in her voice. "I'll think of something."


	5. Chapter 5 - The Portrait

Her arm was lightly upon Goudie's arm, in spite of the fact that she wanted to hold more of him than just the arm. She remained a pristine and quite girl, in spite of the fact that she very much wanted to pull this man into a corner and achieve the loss of her virginity with as much passion and enthusiasm as could be achieved. S'nae D'Vreeze had a massive crush on Goudie, Paladin of Illmatar.

"But mother would kill me if she thought I was sleeping with a human," she sighed to herself. And as she looked up at Goudie, for his shoulders literally were at the top of her head. She gazed upon his strong blond hair and gentle beard covering his firm face, with those two crystal blue eyes deep set within. Indeed he seemed almost too much the god to touch.

"Here we are Goudie," she said as she led him to a spot in the museum. Goudie looked at what she had worked very hard to lead him to during this new display of the works of Routelle, Beldin's most skilled painter, now passed away.

"One of his first works I see," mused Goudie. "Methinks that is thy mother, no?"

"Yes," sighed S'nae. "Mother." She could swear her mother was frowning at her from the portrait for holding on to Goudie's arm. And this in spite of the fact that Vikii was looking very pristine and content in the painting. It had been a happy time in the family.

"And who, pray," continued Goudie. "Is that dashing drow man standing next to her?"

"That," sighed S'nae, feeling suddenly a little grief. "Was my father."

"Was?"

"He was killed. The dragon got him," she sighed. "M'randa and R'seria were 31, I was 24, Chess'rina was 20, and M'thana was 15. So we all remember him. I miss him. He was such a sweetie."

Goudie paused. "Then why art the sixth daughter? For thou hast two older sisters, and two younger?"

"The triplets were still born," signed S'nae. "Or rather, something awful happened and mother delivered them pre-maturely. They died in her and father's arms."

"Thou hast much tragedy in thine life," observed Goudie.

"Pain is a handmaiden for our people," replied S'nae, citing an old Drow proverb her mother had repeated on occasion.

"And that cute little babe in your mother's arms?" suggested Goudie. It was not a line delivered entirely innocently. Goudie was not dim, unlike many of the young men of Beldin and he knew she was very much attracted to him.

"That's me, you silly," she giggled and leaned her head on his shoulder while giving his arm a squeeze.

"So how did you get Routelle to paint you? For the word of the rambunctiousness of thine sisters is a well told tale in this town."

"Well, Mother had not planned on an oil painting at first . . ."

* * *

When Whockbacket "Tinker" Binkelham, the well known gnomish inventor, announced in Beldin that he had perfected a glass imaging machine, folks were initially skeptical. His prior inventions had produced the usual effects common with gnomish devices, explosions, cattle stampedes, and the loss of all of Raven's hair for an entire month.

"Better her than me," was Savarre's observation.

So one can imagine the amazement and thrill when it was shown that the device actually worked. It was ingenious in it's own way, a glass plate, coated with a strange chemical compound would catch an image of the person in exact likeness when put into the machine and the machine operated.

Binkelham was set for making a grand sum off of his new device. Every single adventurer in Beldin wanted a glass image of themselves either standing proud and erect, strong and silent, seated with the prostrate form of the latest defeated monster, or as companions together.

Everyone except the Bounder Keyna.

"Ain't gonna let no image of me around where some adventure-boy can kiss it when I'm not lookin," she snapped.

So there was no surprise when Vikii announced to her family that such an image would be taken of them. Vharaun in particular was fascinated by the alchemy prospects of the fluids which the machine depended upon and he wanted to see it in operation. Likewise both had tried in the past to have an oil portrait of the family done, but getting the twins to sit still for the entire pose had proven impossible. This would be quick and involve no more than a few moments. Vikii and Vharaun were hopeful that the twins could be kept in line for that brief period. As for S'nae, she was still very much the infant and after Vikii had nursed her, she would be sound asleep.

Accordingly on the day of the image taking, Binkelham arrived at the D'Vreeze apartments with the gadget and spend the first few moments setting up while he and Vharaun talked shop about alchemy.

Vikii came in next with the twins in tow. She was dressed in a long resplendent white gown laced with silver thread while the twins were in identical black and red tights. Their silver white hair had been carefully combed over the bald spots which frequently appeared after the twins had had a disagreement. They stood in their proper places with their hands behind their backs. Vikii had secured two pairs of handcuffs so the twins, M'randa and R'seria couldn't reach for the brass knuckles, daggers, or hat pins which Vikii had no doubt were hidden somewhere upon their persons. They were posed right in front of their father.

"Excellent," said Binkelham. "You couldn't ask for a better pose for Beldin's most prominent and beloved Drow family. Now one second . . .wait . . . one of your darlings is sticking her tongue out."

"Acid Bath for Rhorho," said Vikii through her wide and serene smile.

"It was her idea!" shouted R'seria staring at M'randa.

"No it wasn't, you little liar," replied M'randa.

The twin's shouting, accusations, and list of crimes committed in the past two hours was rapidly escalating to that well known high pitched keening of the Drow when a sudden crack of two smalls skulls being rapidly slammed together broke the escalating tensions.

"Wonderful move dearest," sighed Vikii. "I see you have mastered the favored form of discipline."

"One does what one can for the House," replied Vharaun with barely a smile on his features.

"Very good," observed Binkelham after waiting a few seconds for the twins to recover from the stun. He knew what side his bread was buttered on. They could have tortured to death a halfling child in front of him and he still would have said that. "But I think, if I may propose, that the twins would look better if their hands were in front."

"Erm," suggested Vharaun.

"It will be fine dear," replied Vikii. "I think I can persuade them given that they've just been punished."

She leaned over and whispered something in each of their ears . . . their faces turned pale and their eyes went wide and they rapidly assured her that they would remain as still as could be.

Vharaun made a gesture and a word and the cuffs fell off of the twins hands and they put them in front in a formal handclasp.

"Ok," said Binkelham. "Now everyone, watch the dancing Kobold!"

Four pairs of wide ultraviolet eyes focused upon a little mechanical kobold who stood on the edge of a great wide trough holding a fine gray powder which the Gnome held above his device. The mechanical device began to twitter and hop and everyone smiled.

"One, Two, Three, NOW!" said Binkelham.

A tiny spark flew from the Kobold's hand and ignited the powder. A sudden bright hot flash of searing light illumined the entire room, coloring the entire tableau in pure white with only the faintest edge of dark along it's borders.

One year later, over the D'Vreeze fireplace mantle, was an exquisite oil painting of the family. Vharaum, in his shimmering armor looked every inch the warrior. Vikii was dressed in her long flowing white gown, her hand resting ever so delicately on his shoulder. Beside her sat Aunt Delanna holding the twins in her lap. Their faces were an expression of pure angelic innocence and purity. And of course S'nae was asleep in her mother's arm upon her mother's chest.

But as for Binkelham, no sign of him was ever found after that fateful afternoon. There were samples of his powder in Vharaun's laboratory, but Vharaun made no secret of his desire to examine fully the working's of the Gnome's device. Bits of odd mechanical items which might have been part of the glass image maker were seen in several of the twin's 'secret spots' but they had all sorts of odd bits of mechanical stuff and cast off which they routinely devised into interesting little devices usually best suited for torturing small furry forest creatures, the sort that love to flock around innocent princesses. When Bobo, Vikii's pet Dire Wolf Spider was magically asked what had happened, for he had been sitting in his little pet house in the corner of the room, he only chittered happily and cleaned his mandibles. Goodwife Madella insisted to her dying day that she had seen the twins experimenting with a small foot that might have been a gnome's foot, but she also insisted she had seen the legendary Bard, Elvis whom she affirms stayed at her house one night and played with her hound dog.

Since Gnomish devices are notorious for their instability, the official conclusion of the inquiry into his disappearance was that the machine disintegrated taking Binkelham with it and the D'Vreeze were left without their glass image. They did little to dispel this speculation and often nodded in sympathy to it when it was given.

Since then, Beldin has had no glass imager and no other gnomes have stepped forward with a new and improved version.


	6. Chapter 6 - Sissors For Savarre

"Sisi!" protested Melody, looking over at S'nae as she put away the musical instruments from the march. "Girl you can't let it get to you or you might do something horrible!"

The Pipers had been responsible for escorting a foreign dignitary to the court. They had given a full musical march for the escort. It had been quite the parade which conveyed Beldin's capabilities as both honorable and militarily competent. But something had happened right after the march and S'nae was furious. Melody could not blame her. As she was the only drow most people ever encountered, she attracted curiosity. S'nae was quite used to that, in fact, she often turned the reputation drow had into a means of conveying humor. But the dignitary had, with complete and with total disrespect, taken advantage of the fact that the Pipers were military and while S'nae was standing there at immobile attention like any good Piper of Beldin, the man had taken out a knife and cut a bang of her silver hair from her head. She had to remain at attention. There was nothing she could do to stop it.

"I'm Beldin's girl," hissed S'nae. "I'm Beldin's Piper. I know we need this peace with Luskin. I will do nothing to threaten the peace process. But something SOMEwhere is going to pay . . . Oh yes."

"Sisi, I know it's humiliating but it's . . . It's just a bang of hair!" argued Melody. She had never seen this rage in S'nae before and it was scaring her.

"Just a bang of hair?" screamed S'nae. "I was treated like some carnival show freak! An animal on display! I was humiliated by a bastard who probably has a lot to do with why we are almost at war with Luskin!"

"Sisi!" Melody reached over and just hugged her. S'nae burst into tears. "I know it's humiliating. Please, let it go."

S'nae just cried in Melody's arms for a few moments, getting all the humiliation out. Then between sniffles, she began to giggle.

"Oh . . . Okay Mel . . . But you have to promise me something," said S'nae, straightening up and beginning to wipe her tears from her eyes.

"What Sisi?"

"You must never! ever! tell Unkesavi."

"Your uncle Savarre? Why?"

"Well," began S'nae.

* * *

Vikii had been humming and dancing little steps all day in the tree house. Her mood had been considerably better ever since Delanna had invited her to move into her and Savarre's forest home, built up in the trees like any good elven home the Karen River Valley. For starters, she felt less alone since she could have the twins sleeping in the same bed with her. That made the twins feel more secure, but likewise, she had not suffered any nightmares for several weeks.

While Alan was sorry to lose a paying customer, he wasn't sorry to lose what came with that paying customer, namely a set of twins who had developed a knack for setting fires to beds, planting small stink bombs on the seats of chairs about to be sat in, and slipping mickey's into drinks which had produced, among the patrons, burps of sinking clouds and minor internal intestinal explosions. It had, among other things, forced him to abandon his, "Bar Ale has that special kick" advertising slogan. People were taking it too literally these days and business was suffering.

So Vikii now lived in the Shannon Wood, a few miles to the north and east of Beldin, and at the moment she was happily engaged in elaborate preparations for the evening. She had brushed her long white hair until it had glistened in the moonlight, she had braided black and red dyed spider silk threads into it. She had been precise about her long flowing red dress with the billowy sleeves. She spent several minutes viewing in the mirror to make certain. Her two mithril medallions had been carefully cleaned, and silver bracelets and rings on several other fingers were added to the combo. Now that she was out of her bedroom and looking in one of the myriad full length mirrors which Savarre insisted be in nearly every single room (for he was determined to make sure he was perfectly attired at all times), Savarre was watching her primp and preen but in particular, looking hard and long at her hands.

"Vikii?" he asked, somewhat concerned. "Doesn't a mass of silver rings on a drow woman's hand mark her as a devotee of Kiranshallee?"

Vikii looked at her hands.

"I suppose it could be perceived as such," she replied. "But I like silver. It goes so well with my skin tone."

That ended the conversation. Vikii had an innate knack for knowing what she looked good in and Savarre likewise was more than capable of selecting an outfit with taste and flair. He had to admit to himself that she was looking particularly attractive that night even down to the black lipstick.

Delanna walked into the room at this point and Savarre, instinctively knowing danger, appeared to be interested in the view out of the window by Vikii's mirror.

"Hello dear," he said. "Have you seen that little Kukrian bird's nest out on the branch yet?"

"Just about every time you mentioned it," replied Delanna. She had noticed that he seemed to mention that bird's nest on a regular basis when ever Vikii seemed to be preening in front of the mirror.

Vikii stepped back from the mirror, seeing Delanna, smiled and pirouetted letting the skirt of the dress flair out into a bell.

"How do I look hun?" she asked.

"Oh Vikii, you look wonderful," replied Delanna. She smiled sweetly as she brushed her lightly tinted blue hair back from her face behind her ears.

Savarre pretended to notice Vikii for the first time.

"Nice combo," he suggested.

"He's been looking at you primp again hasn't he," Delanna observed. Savarre mentally cursed himself and blushed furiously.

"I'm afraid so . . . but I so depend on his admiration to get a hint if I'm looking especially good," Vikii replied. "But we both know he loves you, Delanna."

Delanna sighed, but consoled herself that while no man is perfect, Savarre was awfully close these days. Besides Vikii was determined to 'breed true' as she put it. Accordingly there was no man in Beldin or the Karen River Valley who was not drow which Vikii had any intention of sleeping with. Not that she did anything to convey that decisions of hers. Her flirtations suggested quite the opposite. Only those who knew her and could call her friend realized this was all part of the act in her shrewd game of psychological maneuverings she had learned in the cutthroat atmosphere of the underdark. It's how she had survived so far and saw no need to change just yet.

"So Vikii," asked Delanna, almost nonchalantly even though she strongly suspected she already knew the answer. "Do you have a date tonight?"

"What ever gave you that idea?" replied Vikii, smiling as she once again adjusted a few bangs of her hair.

"Now Vikii. You think you can fool your bestest girlfriend, Aunty Del? I've not seen you this primpy and dressy since . . . well it's been ages . . . and then I heard that 'Hellooooo Male!' mating call of yours the other night behind the Bar. Not heard that for at least a couple of years either . . . I have my suspicions."

"Well," answered Vikii. "I've met a nice young drow boy and he's taking me to dinner at the Tea Shoppe and a walk along the pier afterwards. Then I'm going to take him up to the wall and point out some of the necessary landmarks for finding your way in the valley."

"Who?" asked Delanna.

Vikii smiled.

"Just a nice drow boy," she answered again.

"Vikii!" said Del, leaning in and waving a finger at her. "That last nice drow boy turned out to be an assassin looking to lure you into a trap by pretending he was interested in Eilistraee."

"But he didn't ask me out first did he?" replied Vikii. "I asked him. And besides, that dinner ended with a nice doggie bag for Bobo."

Savarre paled and went to the window for a large breath of fresh air. Vikii's reference to doggie bag was the corpse of that young drow male who had been hacked apart and fed to her pet Dire Wolf Spider. He didn't care for the fact that Vikii had insisted Bobo come live in the tree house as well, but the spider seemed well fed . . . Savarre never delved too deeply into what Vikii fed him (normally) . . . and accordingly remained quiet in a ceiling corner or more often, his pet box. Just the same, to be sitting out on a branch with his darling Delanna, and watching the sun set while in a window over head, a very large spider just sat there and stared at them with those eight clusters of tiny eyes took something out of the romance of the moment.

"Vikii!" Delanna was losing her patience.

Vikii walked over and held Del's hands and looked into her eyes. "Darling, if he's going to be someone special over time, I'll bring him home and introduce you to him. You're the only family I have now. Who else can I bring someone home to for their approval?"

With assurances that Delanna and Savarre would be watching the twins, who up to that point had been quietly playing in a corner with some bits of wood, string, and daggers, building something or other which Del found strangely disturbing for reasons she couldn't quite put a finger on, she gave them both hugs goodbye and dashed out of the tree house. Within a matter of a few moments, the carriage with her driving the horses was down the metaled road towards the town of Beldin.

"She's a fox, that one," muttered Savarre, standing at the mirror and adjusting his hair braids with gentle and almost minute touches with a hair brush.

"What?" asked Delanna. She understood what Savarre was meaning when he said fox. It wasn't in attractive, but cunning.

"She slipped away and we still don't know who she's going out with," he finished.

Del looked out of the window and her worry lines began to form around her eyes.

"No problem!" exclaimed Savoire. He walked over and put his hands on Delanna's shoulders, pulling her gently back so she could lean on his chest. "Remember, Vikii's strong and skilled enough now that anyone capable of taking her down would be well known by all of us in advance because you can't get that powerful without someone knowing it."

Delanna placed her hands on his as she leaned against him feeling him to be a pillar of rock.

"She's got a long way to go yet," she objected.

"But her hunting buddies take good care of her," finished Savoire. "She's in good hands when she's in the field and soon she'll be hunting with us."

Delanna turned and kissed Savarre gently. The two remained in embrace for a moment. Then Delanna walked over to her sewing supplies, and got her new dress which needed adjusting. Sitting in the couch by the fireplace, for the evening promised to be chilly, she began to sew.

Savarre sat and looked at the woman he had fallen in love with, but fatigue began to steal over him. He flopped down on the couch, his head next to her lap, and soon was quietly asleep.

The twins, now somewhat on their own, toddled over to Delanna and looked at the sewing gear, especially the scissors. She smiled at them, and they settled down by her legs, and began to once again play with their blocks and string. She noticed that M'randa kept looking at the scissors and sewing gear, and then at Savarre, but she attributed that to the natural curiosity of young children and thought no more of it for a while.

"Anadel?" asked M'randa, pointing to the scissors. "Whad's dad?" Her big ultraviolet eyes seemed inquisitive and her tousled white hair gave her the image of a little cherub, albeit dark skinned one.

Delanna explained all about scissors while Mimi sat and listened.

"Anadal?" asked Mimi pointing to the needle and thread. "Whad's dose?"

Using language as simple as possible, Del began to explain the skill of sewing to the girls. Within a matter of moments, she had gotten them to abandon their blocks and string, sheath their daggers, and sit next to her with little bits of spare cloth with needles and thread sewing. For the twins, it was getting to do grown up things. For Del it was a new hem on the dress and some girl time with her two little nieces.

"Raising children," she thought wistfully. She looked at Savarre and smiled to herself. "Yeah I can do this, no problem!" She giggled to herself as she pantomimed Savarre in thought.

Things were quiet for a few moments, perhaps an hour, and then Delanna heard the rapid galloping of horse hooves on the road below coming up through the wood.

"DEL!" cried Vitrine, the Tiefling member of Raven's Ravagers from the horse below.

Delanna put down her sewing and walked to the window and looked out. Beneath her, Vitrine, was wearing bloody and riven armor. There was a nasty hack mark in her left head horn.

"Viti!" cried Delanna. "What is it?"

"Sahuagin have come up coast and are raiding the beach fishing villages. The Ravagers are badly hurt, one of us is dead. We need you bad! Can you come fast? I don't know how much time we have before the next wave arrives!"

"I'll be right down!" cried Delanna. She looked at Savarre sound asleep on the couch with the twins gently, with innocent smiles, sewing up little dollies of lace. Savarre could easily handle that. She put down her sewing on the table next to her scissors and thread, smiled at the twins, and went to the bedroom where she donned her bright green armor and took out her sword. Five minutes later she was riding south with Vitrine.

Savoire remained sound asleep on the couch. M'randa and R'seria looked at each other. Their smiles of innocence then transformed into the sorts of smiles which would have sent shivers up the spines of anyone who had been able to watch.

"Leds sew more," suggested M'randa to R'seria.

"Ok," replied R'seria.

"On Unkesavi," proposed M'randa.

"Ok," replied R'seria nodding.

This seems to satisfy M'randa. In her reasoning it was now all R'seria's fault. Four little drowling hands secured needle and thread and commenced to sew. Then four little drowling hands began to play with scissors. Much was sewn in the next few hours with a quiet industry that only young children can achieve. Many things were snipped as well.

It was three hours later that Delanna returned to the tree house. The Ravagers were back to full combat capabilities and more than capable of dealing with any further raids of the sea creatures. The evening was now very late and when she reached the tree house, the twins were there to greet her in the front, rubbing their eyes sleepily. She greeted them by the door with little hugs and she picked them up and sat them on a hanging swing chair outside. The porch was dark and a gap in the branches opened up to the night sky. The twins loved to sit out here with Delanna when it was night. They, like their mother, seemed more animated in the moon light. And tonight was special. The northern lights were dancing across the sky in flashing bits of red and white.

"Anadel?" began R'seria. "I miss Mamo."

Delanna gave R'seria a squeeze. Inside, Savarre was struggling to get up and wondering why the couch cushions had suddenly become part of his otherwise fashionable ensemble. His arms likewise seemed unable to be in any place other than his side and his legs were remarkably constrained by the cushion which was firmly stuck to the back of his thighs. Fearing the worst, he began to struggle to find a full length mirror.

"I do doo," sighed M'randa.

"Is Mamo coming back soon?" asked R'seria.

"Let me find out," offered Delanna. She took her arms from off of the twins' shoulder and gently touched a small ring which enabled her to achieve a mental link with Vikii when necessary. It enabled the two them to think to each other when separated by distances.

"Oh my Goddess . . . Oh my Darling . . . Oh Goddess . . . Oh Darling . . . Goddess . . . yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . Oh Yes . . Yes . . . Yes (is that you Del?) YES! OH! YES! YES!"

Del broke off the messaging.

"Anadel?" suggested M'randa. "Why your ears all red?"

"Looks funny," offered R'seria.

"Why your face all pink?" continued Mimi.

"I wish that girl would learn to multitask," Delanna muttered to herself.

"Is Mamo ok?" asked M'randa.

"Mamo is very happy," replied Del.

"She home soon?" asked R'seria.

"I believe she's wrapping up things right now," answered Delanna.

"Whad's she doing?" asked R'seria.

"Time for bed," was Delanna's answer.

The twins protested only briefly as she scooped them up into her arms and began to carry them into the tree house and into Vikii's and their bedroom.

The lights in the tree house went out one by one, leaving only the moon light and flickering of the northern lights in the great sky above. The outside evening of the forest glade was punctuated by the sounds of crickets chirping, the night breeze rustling the summer leaves, and the ultimate scream of despair from one lone Elven male who had just discovered that his long red bangs had been rendered a mohawk by two pairs of sewing scissors.


	7. Chapter 7 - Raising M'randa

"Vell," hissed S'nae, dressed in a dark skin tight shimmering body suit. "Ve shall see how good you rifen are." She drew a pair of daggers and went into attack mode. Suddenly shadows seemed to emanate from around her, obscuring her black feminine form even more. Smoky tendrils of coiling smokey black which suggested serious peril for her target.

"Foul drow spider bitch," growled Leo, the lion hearted champion of Baldur's Gate. His billowing blond hair shimmered in the light, a noted contrast to the dull grey silver of S'nae's tussled style, now swathed in shades of darkness. "Prepare to descend into the Demonweb Pits!"

And the fight began in earnest. S'nae's blades flashed and she twirled deftly avoiding the precise swings of Leo's broadsword. There were two clangs and four small tings of metal upon metal and then with a deft duck and slide, S'nae was behind him, up, and both daggers planted in his back.

"I might have known you would kill me in the back," groaned Leo and he fell to the floor. "I die, unavenged for my people . . . Oh my beautiful town, who will protect you from the evil now?"

"Indeed," laughed S'nae. "For your heart vill make the perfect component for my jaluk vizard to brew the potion which will blanket your town in darkness and permit me and my sisters to rise up and drag you all down screaming to the altars of Lolth!" And she laughed even more as music suddenly swelled in a dark and dramatic theme. The curtain began to fall.

And then the orchestra in the pit began to play the transition music for the end of the preamble. The curtain closed; the stage crew began to move the furnishings for the preparation of Act I.

"Great start for the rehearsal," began Vrendel, the playwright. "Sisi? One error. It's riven, not rifen."

"Are you suggesting," began S'nae with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "That a drow does not know how to speak her mother's tongue?"

"Yes!" said Vrendel, and three other actors who were adjacent and had heard her reply.

"Well, given that you were insisting that I speak with that silly accent which I never heard coming out of the mouth of my mother, I wasn't so sure," finished S'nae grinning. "But okay, riven, not rifen."

Melody was dressed in an ordinary peasant smock, since her first bit actor role (of which she had several in the play) was that of a rural woman giving directions to the adventuring party which would shortly set out in act one. She looked at S'nae and smiled.

"No such thing as a dress rehearsal which doesn't have something go wrong," she sighed.

"Some mistakes however are more interesting than others," mused S'nae.

* * *

Vikii D'Vreeze, dressed in a skin tight black silk hose and thin delicate chain shirt lounged luxuriantly upon a large red throne, it's entire structure appearing to be a Tarantula in attack mode. Webs filled the entire room and in the background, shouts of fighting were heard. One of her legs was draped over the arm rest while the other stretched out in front of her onto a foot rest which appeared to be composed of four elven heads dying in extreme agony.

"I think I hear some unsuspecting playmates coming," she cooed to the large hairy spider she held in her hand.

Suddenly, Cedron, Paladin of Tyr and Theo Biskin, Mage Extrodinare, burst into the inner chambers of the Drow Palace from the right.

"Matron Mother," shouted Cedron triumphantly. "We have dispatched your troops and left them a bloody wreckage upon your filigreed floors."

"They blew up real good," nodded Theo. "Their cursed resistance to my magic was easily overcome by my skill in the art. Praise be to Mystra!"

"And now," Cried Cedron. "You will face the justice of Tyr!"

Vikii laughed.

"My slaves were weak," she sneered. "And now they are meat for Lolth to feast upon."

She rose and drew her long thin bright burning black rapier.

"And you will be under her altar in a nonce, carved up by my knives and she will feed upon you too, and bless me for I will bring down the foes who have caused so much harm to her devoted Mistress!" she shrieked.

Throwing the spider at Cedron, she charged.

Cedron batted the thing away with his two handed sword, now glistening with a gold light.

Suddenly, there was blackness.

"Curse you Drow!" cried Cedron though the blackness. "You fear to face the wrath of the golden light of my holy sword?"

Theo screamed, "I am stabbed through the heart!"

The darkness faded and Vikii stood behind them, Theo on the ground, his blood pooling in front of him from a great hole stabbed into his chest from which it most copiously spurted.

"Fare thee well, darling Prunellia," he gasped. "No more shall I feel the warmth of your embrace."

He died with a forlorn sigh.

Cedron faced Vikii alone.

"I shall avenge my friend," he hissed.

"Bring it on!" snapped Vikii.

The sword fight began in earnest. Cedron's sword whistled and hummed with divine magic as it swirled sharp and slashing arcs through the air. Vikii, her dancer's body more than up to the task, nimbly and gracefully ducked and skipped to avoid the blows. She thrust with her rapier, but Cedron's sword was more than capable of batting away the dark hissing point of her blade with the same ease he had smacked the flying spider fangs at the outset of the fight. It was now clear she was outmatched. Slowly she was giving ground until she realized that Cedron had backed her into the throne. Her retreat was blocked and she could not maneuver past him on either side and remain un-hit by that Tyr blessed blade of his. Suddenly, she began to be afraid.

Cedron lunged and swung his two handed sword in a whistling arc that Vikii tried to parry with her rapier. The weight and kinetic force of Cedron's swing was more than enough to bat the rapier away like a fly and the blade impacted Vikii's skull. She fell backwards and rolled onto the ground and there, with fear in her eyes, she feebly held one hand up to ward the death blow while a deep gash in her head and blood stained white hair marked the impact of his blade.

"And now!" cried Cedron. "Foul and evil creature of the underdark, prepare to meet your spider demon."

He raised his sword to deliver it's point directly into her heart.

And then he cried "Gah!" and fell forward upon Vikii's body. Paper mache armor crunched with the impact. The tin two handed sword with the glowing gold light bent nearly double and skittered across the stage, knocking a leg off of the carefully sewn stuffed spider prop. Vikii uttered an "umph!" as he landed right on top of her.

In the fleshy part of his calf, Cedron felt the bite of tiny drow teeth and the stab of a knitting needle.

"Get R'seria off of the stage!" cried Daffyd standing up and waving a sheaf of papers about with several of the leaves flying from the collection. Those loose leaves that fell to the seats and floor bore the title in the upper right hand corner which said, Paladin Palodia and his Merry Band of Adventurers. The fact that one of each of the Merry Band died in some gruesome fashion in every scene of the adventure they embarked upon, leaving Palodia alone at the end of the play, and yet remained merry, was one of the weaknesses of the story, but as it was a popular tale in Beldin, it seemed only appropriate to dramatize it.

"It looks like the young daughter cares much for her mother," observed Galad, that resplendent knight of the Fearthegn Riders, who was seated next to Vitrine in the back. Vitrine was dressed all in white with pink ribbons as Prunellia, the love of Mage Porteck, played by Theo Biskin. As Prunellia was a love interest and not one of the merry band, she didn't have to be merry, but neither did she have to die horribly. Theo, in the meantime, was now seated up on the stage, fiddling with the blood pump under his shirt, which had helped to produce such a copious flow of blood for his death scene.

"Well," she observed. "I guess I won't be doing the funeral scene any time soon."

"Nevertheless," mused Galad. "I think the Bard has done a good job bringing this drama to life. Almost something poignant about Vikii's daughter leaping up to save her . . . Mamo."

Daffyd looked at Savarre who was still amazed at the skill in which R'seria D'Vreeze had managed to secure both a knitting needle and get on stage when she was supposed to be seated right by M'randa, who was remaining in her chair next to him.

"You were supposed to tell them it was make believe, right?" Daffyd accused Savarre.

"But of course!" explained Savarre. He looked at M'randa D'Vreeze. She looked up at him with her big blue ultraviolet eyes as innocently as she could achieve, given she was a drow girl of nearly four.

"Didn't I explain it to you, Mimi?" he asked her. "And weren't you supposed to explain it to Rhorho?"

"Id's all Rhorho's fauld," agreed M'randa.

"I think I know what that means," muttered Savarre to himself.

Teelie, the young pixie from the Fey wood in the mid-valley, was dashing about the stage now, flitting here and there.

"All my armor crushed, yes? All my work on the sword ruined, yes? Teelie is not happy, no no!" she cried.

Aniki, a well established Dragon Disciple, now entered stage left. She was dressed in red, and had been wearing a big red dragon head, being as she played the evil ancient female wyrm who had threatened Cedron and his merry band of adventurers in the prior scene. Delectia, the beautiful rogue with the deep, dark, and mysterious eyes, who had been incinerated in that scene (and who now present as a pile of ashes in a small bag hanging on Cedron's belt) was played by Katrina, who was backstage now dealing with singed hair after a slight underestimation of the fire resistance needed to offset Aniki's breath weapon. The dragon head was a ruined mess, it's front end burned off and wisps of smoke still curling from it's blackened edges.

"I'm sorry Teelie," she said. "It was dusty and I sneezed!" Her dragon wings, recently sprouted from her back, twitched a bit in embarrassment.

"No! Teelie is unhappy, yes!" wailed Teelie who flew in random circles about the stage.

In short, it was a typical dress rehearsal the night before the opening.

R'seria simply growled at Cedron and brandished her knitting needle.

"You nod hurd Mamo!" she cried at Cedron's prone form. "You nod hurd my Mamo!"

Cedron was still trying to assess just what had happened when a droll feminine voice seemed to emanate from a spot just under his upper chest.

"Cedi," she said. "As much as I like the fact that I finally have a male of your quality and stature on top of me, is this really the time and place?"

Cedron blanched. He never knew if Vikii was being serious or humorous in these matters. Then she freed one of her legs, wrapped it around one of his, and gave it a squeeze. He leaped up and winced as the wound in his calf spasmed.

"It was all make believe," he tried to explain to R'seria, turning to her and holding his arms out sincerely.

"You not hurd Mamo!" insisted R'seria, her eyes glowing bright red and welling with tiny tears. She shook her knitting needle at him. "Mimi say dad Unkasavi say dad Mamo ged hurd. You nod hurd my Mamo!"

Savarre turned to address M'randa, who seemed to have already silently vanished from the general vicinity.

"I knew it," he muttered. "Well she can't have gotten far . . . where are her secret spots now?

He slipped off into the shadows. She might be drow, but he was Savarre Rogue Extrodinare and she was not quite five. The thought of her outwitting him even more was not to be tolerated. He too would have his vengeance.

Vikii sat up and looked at R'seria.

"Rhorho," she said softly. "Mamo's ok, hun."

R'seria ran and embraced Vikii, who held her close and blinked back a few tears.

"Mamo ok?" asked R'seria.

"Yes," sniffled Vikii. "Mamo's ok . . . I'm so proud of you!" She wiped the tears from her cheeks and beamed at her daughter, squeezing her tightly.

Galad nodded with approval.

"Tis only fitting to praise the daughter who defends the mother," he observed.

"But it wasn't exactly the right sort of defense," replied Vitrine.

"No Problem!" cried Savarre triumphantly, interrupting that reverie. He emerged from behind the stage, holding aloft, as far as he was able, a kicking, biting, clawing, scratching, punching, hair yanking, and screaming M'randa. Blood was on his face his hair was askew, there was a rip in his shirt, and his hand bore the deep and small imprints of infant pearly teeth, but he had M'randa. Of course he hadn't seen himself in the mirror yet, then there might be wailing and gnashing of teeth, but for the moment, he was triumphant and that fact alone blurred any destruction of his perfected dress and do.

"Terrible twos yes yes?" observed Teelie flitting about.

"Bring her to me, Savi dear," asked Vikii politely. She had stood up and smiled sweetly to Savarre waiting patiently for him to bring her daughter forward. He noted that there were two small delicate bumps upon her thin light chain shirt which hadn't been there before the accident. Her comment to Cedron wasn't entirely a joke it seemed. But her bright red burning eyes made it clear that someone was about to get it good and Savarre was glad he knew who the target was. M'randa also seemed to know who the target was and she screamed and fought Savarre even more intensely as he marched over to Vikii with his little clawing and biting bundle of childhood delight.

"She is going to hurt you a lot more than you're going to hurt me," he whispered into her ear.

"Sugar and spice and everything nice my . . ." he muttered to himself as he handed her over.

M'randa knew there was no escape now. She went limp and prepared for what she was certain was an impending and pain-filled trip to the Fugue Plane. With a skilled and graceful flip, Vikii tossed the child so that she was now holding M'randa by the ankles. The child's face was just inches from the tips of the bright hot burning stage lights. Wisps of her white hair had already hit the covers of the lights and the smell of singed hair once again filled the stage.

"Shall I drop your face into the lights, darling?" asked Vikii, her voice that beautiful lilting drowish mixture of honey and acid. "Or shall I just throw you off of the stage so that your head cracks open and your brains ooze out?"

Cast and crew took a collective breath and held it. All save Savarre, who had seen Vikii punish her girls often enough that he had become somewhat anesthetized, were very unsettled.

"I'm sorry Mamo!" wailed M'randa. "Dond kill me please!"

Galad's eyes widened to such an extent that Vitrine wondered if they were about to fall out and bounce and roll to the foot of the stage.

"Sorry you were evil? Or sorry you were caught?" asked Vikii quietly.

"I'msorryi'msorryi'msorry," continued the child wailing.

Vikii seemed to have not received the answer she wanted to hear. Vikii rebalanced her, and pressed her down on the floor. With one hand she held her trembling daughter by the throat to the stage and with the other she drew her dagger. The long thin blade glistened in the light as Vikii held it aloft.

"When you're evil," she said with just a touch of hissing in her voice. "You make Mamo very angry."

Aniki gasped and cried out "Vikii!"

The blade flashed as it flew through the air, but it was the pommel that cracked on the skull of M'randa. The blade never touched the child.

"Mild reprimand," mused Savarre to himself. "She knows she's in public."

Vikii stood up and sheathed her old dagger.

"Savi dear," she said in her charming voice. "The cuffs are in my bag by my chair. Would you get them for me please?"

She carried the limp, sobbing, and quivering body of M'randa to the foot of the stage and handed her over to Savarre who, placed her in her chair in the front row center. Vikii came down the side steps and taking the hand cuffs from Savarre, cuffed M'randa to the arm rests.

Silence remained in the entire auditorium.

"Vikii?" asked Daffyd quietly though his voice was trembling. "Wasn't that a little . . .?"

Vikii looked up, her face baffled.

"What's the problem, Daffi?"

"What you just did to M'randa was barbaric!" he shouted.

"Are you telling me how to raise my girls?"

"Damn straight I am!" shouted Daffyd. "If the law permitted I would have them taken from you and have you incarcerated!"

"Daffi, DEAR?" said Vikii as she walked forward. "Let me tell you something about who I am and where I come from."

"I know where you come from," retorted Daffyd. "But that's no excuse."

"I'm not making an excuse," replied Vikii. "I'm going to inform you that for the past twenty-five thousand years, Lolth has bred the drow so that they are born with a homicidal streak in them that manifests itself from their conception to their violent death. You are looking at a woman who killed three of her own sisters before she was even 12. Two while mother was still carrying us before I was born, and the last one with this!"

She drew her old dagger and waved it in front of Daffyd's face.

"Then when I was 12, I was sent to school, where one third of my classmates were murdered by the rest of us. Six of those were my doing. And one tenth of us where likewise sent to Lolth's altar and of those, nine of them I sacrificed myself as I was in training for Lolth's priesthood! Again with this!"

Once more her dagger flashed in the lights as she gestured with it.

"My daughters come from that," she continued. "And if it were not for Eilistraee's direct intervention, M'randa already would have killed R'seria, or tricked her into killing herself, or tricked her into getting killed by another."

She stared straight into Daffyd's eyes.

"There are those in this town who would not have hesitated like Cedi would have when attacked," she continued. "It's not a surfacer childhood prank that M'randa just pulled now is it? Do you want R'seria dead?"

Daffyd remained silent, but his eyes returned Vikii's gaze and remained fixed and steady.

"Well I don't," continued Vikii. "So if I may, I should like to teach M'randa to fear death so much that she fears to give it out!"

With that, she turned and walked away.

Daffyd turned to Savarre.

"How can you live with that in your home?" he asked Savarre.

Savarre shrugged.

"I tell you Daffyd," he said. "When you have children, especially children like M'randa and R'seria, in your own house, it changes your perspective."

"You sound like you're enabling her," Daffyd snapped.

"It's real easy to raise someone else's children," replied Savarre. "Especially when you have none of your own, and you only have to make a decision about their rearing once in a great while."

"And what do you mean by that?" snapped Daffyd.

"I mean," replied Savarre. "When you haul her into Beldin's court, make certain that her guilt or innocence is determined not by you or any other judge, but by a jury of 12 drow mothers who are trying to be good women. That is all."

Daffyd snorted and walked away. Savarre looked at Vikii, who crinkled the corner of her mouth and shrugged while R'seria came up, hugged Vikii's leg, and stuck her tongue out at M'randa.


	8. Chapter 8 - Friends and Spiders

S'nae was leaning on the couch in the Bard's college. She was relaxed and content among friends, listening to the violins in the background, young bards to be struggling to master a quartet before their final masterwork. Scampering over her hand was a small jumping spider, striped like a zebra, hardly a quarter of an inch long. She paused to let the spider hop from one finger to another, smiled at it, then turned to Melody who was seating in a chair nearby with a noticeably pale face.

"You sure you don't want to play with him?" queried S'nae holding the spider infested hand towards Melody. "He's a real sweetie this one is."

"How can you let that thing crawl on you?" squeaked Melody backing further into the cushions of the chair.

"Well for starters, he's not crawling on me, just my fingers and hands. I don't know him that well yet. And then he'll have to buy me dinner and a show first."

"EUUUUUUUUUU" squealed Melody shuddering.

"It's such a tiny thing," argued S'nae. "Why are you so squeamish? He isn't even poisonous enough for you to notice if he bites you, which he can't, his fangs are too small to penetrate the skin cells."

"It's it's it's . . ." began Melody shaking her hands spastically.

"It's okay Mel," sighed S'nae pulling her hand back and looking at the small creature waving it's front legs at her. "We've gotten used to the fact that you all are afraid of them. It was kind of hard at first to catch on, like there was this time when mom was chatting with Anadel . . ."

* * *

"The twins have been especially good today," said Vikii D'Vreeze to her longtime friend Delanna. Vikii's long silver hair was framing her ebony skin and only the point of her ears could be seen poking through it's thick lustrous mass. Her ultraviolet eyes seems to be particularly bright and cheery this night. Delanna nodded. An elf with a light blue sheen to her hair, she had pulled it back in a pony tail and was dressed in her customary gray/green attire. She was sitting by Vikii in the bar.

"I only had to flog them three times," finished Vikii.

"I can't understand why you have to punish them at all," said Delanna, "They always are such perfect little angels with me."

"So you claim," replied Vikii, not believing a word of it. "The first time was when I caught them with darling Vharaun's alchemy equipment and if those little scamps hadn't built a bomb? Then there was the evisceration of the M'lands pet dog, and they just got that poor little puppy three days ago. Then the third was when I put them to bed."

"But what for?" asked Delanna.

"I don't know," replied Vikii. "But they obviously do."

Delanna was about to question Vikii on the wisdom of that attitude towards child rearing when a sudden sharp piercing whistle broke through the fog of the chatter in the bar and a mezzo-soprano voice, a bit rough at the edges, shouted out "Hey, Barboy! Put the hooch on!"

Delanna and Vikii looked up and saw a human woman, bright orange hair, blue and gray leathers, and a Katanna and Kukri hanging from a sword belt walk right up to the bar and look Alan straight in the eye.

Alan, the Bartender replied, "I have told you not to call me that, Keyna."

"Whatever yew say, Barboy," she replied.

Alan knew better than to argue . . . he put the hooch bottle on the bar and Keyna tossed him a couple silver coins. Hooch was almost pure alcohol, made from the distillation of corn with brown sugar or molasses thrown in. What happened then depended on who was making it. The professional distillers would put it in charred oak barrels and leave it to age for years. The typical farmer however, would distill that mixture again and let it pour into brown earthenware jugs and cork them shut and use the jugs as trade goods for other items they were looking for. A good plow horse for example, ran at 120 jugs. When Alan got a hooch jug, he would pour the contents into 24 glass bottles and leave them up on the shelf, clear glass bottles which were filled with a clear liquid which could substitute for oil in a lamp if necessary, or keep Keyna drinking and talking for hours.

Delanna was still a bit speechless, and likewise staring at the woman, whom she noticed also had a light splattering of freckles, and a bit of blood, over her face. Keyna noticed them for a moment, said "Heya sis" to Vikii, and then poured herself a shot and gulped it down with a single swig. She poured another one and slid it over to Alan.

"On me, Barboy," she said.

Alan looked at Vikii and Delanna.

"25 years tending bar, knowing adventurers from all over the realms and now I'm . . . Barboy," he said.

Delanna agreed this was sad . . . and Vikii struggled to suppress a smirk.

"Now where was I," asked Delanna, turning back to Vikii.

"I think I was the one talking dear," replied Vikii, "but I'm not sure what I was saying either."

"How old are we?" mused Delanna.

"I'm sure there's a reason other than old age," replied Vikii. "So how is your efforts to adopt Kyri?"

"She's a bit hesitant given the circumstances of her sister," answered Deleth.

"That's besides the point however, she needs a mother!" replied Vikii . . .

The conversation of those two faded from Keyna's mind. She was tired, and she wanted to drink a bottle or two before she retired for the night. She poured herself another shot, gulped it down, and looked up at Alan.

"You called her sister?" queried Alan.

"Yeah," sighed Keyna. "She came outta our back barn when she was a kid and we 'dopted her. Gonna have ta tell yew 'bout it some time. But raight now? Ah don't feel like it."

She tossed another slug of the hooch and then stopped . . . a small black widow spider, red hourglass on the back, no doubt about that, had just dropped on the bar and was scootching across it towards Vikii and Delanna. Keyna hated black widow spiders, they were all over her family's barn. She had only been bitten once, but that had been enough. She quietly lifted her hand to strike.

There was a sudden snick, and she felt a sharp point at the base of her throat. She froze. Turning her eyes, ever so slowly, she saw Vikii, with glowing red eyes, and gritted teeth, holding a dagger point to her throat.

"Yew want the stupid spider, sis," muttered Keyna, "yew can have it . . . I see no reason to fight with yew over a spider."

Slowly, the eyes faded back into their normal ultraviolet. Vikii lowered the dagger and scooped up the black widow spider and held it in the palm of her hand while one finger of her other hand gently stroked the creature.

"Did the mean ol' Riiven scare my little blacky boo?" she cooed. "Do you want Matron Mommy Vikii to take you home, I have all sorts of nummy butterflies for you to eat . . . ooo . . . you like it when I rub your tummy don't you? . . .

Keyna looked back at Alan and ignored the rest of Vikii's oos and coos over her new pet. Alan met her gaze with an understanding nod.


	9. Chapter 9 - Babysitting Perils

**One of the fun things about the Neverwinter Nights persistent worlds was that even the most popular of them only had at most 60 members on at any one time. This meant you could rapidly recognize many of the players by screen name. Likewise, as I posted these stories on the Aerlith site on the Bioware forums, other players wanted to get in on the action as it were. Players loved it when their character inspired a piece of fan art, or in my case, a walk on in one of my stories. While Shovel was a character, he became the twin's babysitter. This story is literally almost entirely lifted from a single RP session one evening when he and I were playing our respective characters.  
**

* * *

S'nae sitting cross legged on the floor singing to the little human boy in front of her. He was almost two and just starting to walk.

"Stand and stretch,  
Reach for the sky!  
Stand on tippy toes,  
Oh so high!"

She held up the boy's hands and swayed back and forth and the boy giggled and cooed.

"You are a natural, Sisi," observed Melody. It was Melody's first nephew, the child of her oldest sister. She had agreed to babysit the boy that evening. S'nae had been there for the two of them had been working out a new guitar duet. Now that the boy was there, S'nae was having a hard time finding a reason to leave. Little boys were kind of cute you see.

"Nah," insisted S'nae. "He's a paying customer, like all the rest. I'm merely entertaining him like any good Beldin bard."

"Yeah," drolled Melody. "You know what I think?"

That was a cue S'nae knew well. Melody was about to play psychologist.

"Yes doctor Mel?" was her retort. She opened her eyes a bit wider, the better to convey wide eyed naive gullibility. To further enhance the image, she allowed her jaw to droop a fraction and left her mouth almost, but not quite, closed.

Melody giggled for a bit before she dropped the bomb.

"I think you like little human boys because you are madly in love with a big one," she observed. "And as soon as you can, you're going to be giving birth to lots of little half drow humans."

"Oh Mel!" cried S'nae placing her hands on her face. "Perish the thought. Besides, I'm only interested in that muscled bod of his."

"Right . . ." Melody said the word very slowly.

"No really!" insisted S'nae trying to look serious, which was hard because she was so tempted to turn this into a big whopping pack of exaggerations. "I mean mother would throw a tizzy and you've seen mother in a tizzy."

"So?" countered Melody. "And I've seen you when you are in your mother's tizzy bulls-eye. You weather it girl. You know you love him, so marry him anyway. What can she do when your standing there with your first born in your arms and she's a grandmother?"

"Babysit," replied S'nae.

"My point exactly," argued Melody. She found S'nae's answer rather odd, but she found S'nae odd without S'nae having to say anything to start with.

"You don't know the history of the House D'Vreeze babysitters do you?"

* * *

It was a quiet night in the Bar. Vikii, Pellefer, and Vitrine, were seated at a table while Vikii waited for her former consort, the one who's name she refused to speak of ever again, to clean his stuff out of her apartment. Vikii was somewhat depressed, her silvery white hair hanging down over her face and her normally well pressed red and black gown somewhat wrinkled and tear stained. She had been weeping on and off the entire week. She muttered once how someone should just kill her and get it over with. Pellefer and Vitrine were sympathetic, but they had seen Vikii in these moods before. They were prepared to wait it out patiently.

"It's not easy being Vikii," was Vitrine's observation. She sat back in her chair, dressed in her short black and red summer shorts and long calf boots while her shoulder length brown hair fell a bit over the edge of the chair. Her tail was quietly resting in her lap. While they were sure that Vikii would get over it, they both had to admit that they had never seen her this depressed for this long. Vikii had always been a happy and upbeat woman, in spite of that dark past of hers. Something about Beldin had seemed to bring out a side of her that would have struck her Ched Nassad companions as entirely alien to drow thinking. Perhaps the most evocative image had been after she had helped deliver a child at the local hospital. Afterwards she had danced down the streets, literally, leaping and pirouetting in her long white dress crying out "I so love this town!"

Shovel, a big burley half-orc who ofttimes would adventure with the Fairs, that being Savarre's team, came into The Bar at this point and passed them carrying the twins. Vikii followed him with her eyes and waited for him to come back, which he did after a few moments. He had put the twins into their crib where they were no doubt quickly falling asleep. She hoped her consort would spend some time with them first before he left, but she had little doubt he would. That drow had 'more important' things to do.

Vikii looked up.

"Hello Shavi," she said quietly. "How are the Mimi and Rhorho?"

"We went to park," grumbled Shovel. In spite of his tough exterior, he had been a most devoted nanny to the twins and everyone had been amazed at the almost gentle demeanor the orc could show to them. However he had his quirks, as Vitrine and Pellefer were about to find out.

"What did you do with them?" asked Vikii. For the first time all night she seemed to brighten up.

"Well . . . " began Shovel.

"Yes?" asked Vikii.

"I show them to girls and talk about being a father," answered Shovel.

Vitrine giggled.

"He's so cute when he does that," she whispered to Pellefer. "He's almost gotten me interested."

"So you were trying to get a wife again?" asked Vikii, smiling.

"Yeah," replied Shovel. "I had one girl really nice to me right after the cat."

Vikii's left eyebrow rose.

"Cat?" she asked.

"Did I say cat?" asked Shovel.

"Yes,"

"Ooops, ummm, no cat."

"Shavi?"

"Ummm,"

"Shavi, tell me about the cat." said Vikii quietly and gently while she took her old dagger from it's sheath at her hip and began quietly tapping the table with it's tip.

Vitrine's eyes darted to the dagger and narrowed. She did not like being in the presence of sharp pointy things. She leaned towards Pellefer and muttered, "Does she have to do that?"

Pellefer leaned back and replied, "Vikii's had that dagger since Delanna met her way back when. With her House Insignia medallion, it's the only other thing which Vikii had with her when she escaped from Ched Nassad. She's never without it."

"What's so special about it?" asked Vitrine glancing at the dagger out of the corner of her eyes. It was clear she did not like any weapons being pulled out when she was at a table.

"It's a gift from Vikii's mother, back when she first learned to walk," whispered Phe'dre. "At least that's what Del told me."

"She was given a dagger when she learned to walk?" gasped Vitrine.

"Apparently; haven't you ever heard Vikii comment about what she plans to teach the twins once they 'learn to walk and carry daggers'?"

"But so young?" asked Vitrine. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"It's dangerous for a Drow the moment they are conceived," muttered Pellefer. "Vikii has made no secret that she killed one of her own sisters with that dagger when she was 6 and before that her two sisters while still in the womb. She was one of triplets when her mother conceived her."

In the meantime, Shovel had finally started to talk about the cat.

"Umm . . . well you know how I think twins need to be taught to attack enemies."

"You tried to teach them how to attack a cat?" queried Vikii, tilting her head slightly while the tapping increased in tempo.

"Oh no, twins to young to attack cat," assured Shovel.

"They can't even crawl yet, Shavi. What did you do to the cat?"

"Well, you know how orcs light torches on horns of cows and stampede them into line of warriors before charge?"

"Yes?"

"Well we had no cow then."

"You had no cow_ then_?"

"So I get cat."

"Who's cat?"

"Ummm, donno."

Vikii signed and wondered if she would find a crying child and an irate mother at her door within the next few hours.

"Well, cat too small to tie torches to. So we soak in oil, set fire to cat, and let it run."

"Through the park?" Asked Vikii, her tapping stopped.

"Oh no, we not do it in park, we do it out in fields."

"Shavi, does that explain the massive fire in the farmlands outside of Beldin this afternoon?"

"Umm, donno. It got smokey after that so I took kids back to park." Shovel shifted his feet somewhat uncomfortably. "Then I meet nice girl and tell her about how I want to be father."

Vikii signaled Alan to bring a second glass of wine for her. Her first glass had just been rapidly drained.

"We then go to tree," offered Shovel.

"Oh, they would like that, the shade and all," murmured Vikii, relaxing somewhat.

"And I toss them into air," continued Shovel.

"Well I'm sure they laughed and enjoyed that," answered Vikii smiling. It appeared that the crises had passed.

"Yes, I throw them up real high," continued Shovel. "And only not catch them the last time."

"Shavi!" Vikii jumped out of her chair, her face paling.

"Oh, no worry," interjected Shovel holding up his huge hands. "Tree catch them."

One of the waitresses arrived with a new glass of wine. Vikii paused, took the glass, drained it in one long gulp, and returned the glass to the waitress who had not the chance to yet withdraw.

"Another please," she said without her customary smile.

Vitrine and Pellefer were used to other adventurers drinking this much, but they had never seen Vikii drank more than a single glass in one sitting and in small sips. They looked at each other and nodded.

Vikii sat back down.

"The tree caught them?" she asked.

"Or one of other kids in tree."

"Other kids?"

"Well, I practice first to show twins it's safe and I do good job . . . almost."

"Yes, but how many other kids in the tree Shavi?" asked Vikii quietly. She appeared outwardly calm, so long as one did not notice the point of her dagger digging into the table top and gouging a deep notch into it.

"Dunno, can't count that high."

"I see."

"But I get them down." insisted Shovel.

"That's good."

"Druid not too happy though."

"Why is the Druid not too happy?" asked Vikii slowly and with her eyes closing so as to hide the sudden shift in color to a dull brown orange.

"Think she's gonna blow?" asked Pellefer to Vitrine.

Vitrine shook her head and whispered back. "She only loses it when they get that really bright red."

"Cause I pull tree up by roots to get kids down. That first reason why Druid not happy, he love his tree."

"Okaaaay?"

"But I catch twins as they fall. That's also why Druid really not happy."

"How many kids fell Shavi?" asked Vikii holding her hanging head in her free hand. "How many heal spells for mending broken bones will I need to cast in this town to make things better?"

"Umm, no one hurt, cause kids, they all get up and run away," assured Shovel, quietly scanning the room to avoid Vikii's gaze as well as the sight of her dagger now working in a deep trough. "'Cept Druid."

"He didn't run away?"

"Um no, tree fall on him when I let go to catch twins."

"And this was _before_ you got the cow?"

"Did I say cow?"

"Yes, you specifically said that you did not have a cow then when you acquired the cat."

"Oh" Shovel was silent for a second, fidgeted with his hands for a second, then he grunted, "Better tell you about cow."

"No, you will NOT tell me about the cow until AFTER I've had a very large drink."

Vikii raised her hands, stood up and turned towards the bar and in a voice tinged with desperation shouted, "Alan? DEAR?"

Alan saw Vikii's eyes, noted their rapidly shifting hue from dull red to orange back to dull red and grabbing a bottle of Vikii's favorite wine, he vaulted over the bar and dashed to her side with the first glass he could grab, an ale stein. She took it, pried the cork off with the point of her dagger, filled the stein, and drained the contents in a single draught. She returned both to him. Shovel remained standing, fidgeting with his hands behind his back and shifting his feet.

Alan, relaxed, and then noted the gouge in the table and sighed. The table doodle carvings of Vikii were now one of the chief marks of the Bar's decor. Nearly every one of his tables had failed to escape this distinction. Some were elaborate designs of torture instruments, others were just nicks from where she tapped the dagger while humming to herself, and one had been a V heart D which she had since carved a big deep x into. He and the waitresses had tried to charge her for the damages initially, but she had insisted that the torture instruments were the best designs available and more than capable of swiftly and painfully extracting confessions from the most obstinate criminal or innocent victim. Sold to the crown, Alan stood to make a fortune she had claimed. They had given up after that. Besides, she was paying the rent on her upstairs apartments on time and those sorts of patrons where hard to come by.

"You should see her own table in the Apartments," Savarre had said to Alan one night in an effort to make him feel better. "Some of the most interesting positions a couple can perform in are carved into it."

Alan had declined on that offer. He decided to be grateful that he only had torture instruments.

"Ok, Shavi," said Vikii, her eyes shifting back to muddy brown as she sat back down. "Tell me about the cow, dear."

"Well, wanted to teach twins about catapult on wall."

"Oh Goddess," sighed Vikii.

"Have no rock . . . so use the cow," continued Shavi.

"And?"

"Cow fly real good over Bar."

"I'm sure it did." Her eyes closed again.

"Then fall on store."

"Shavi? DEAR? Was anyone killed?"

"Oh no, only hole in roof," assured Shovel.

"So I only need to pay damages for the roof then," reflected Vikii thinking she ought to be grateful it wasn't worse.

"And clean up cow off of merchant's shop floor . . . and his broken goods," added Shovel. "It was china shop. Ummm. . . and there were customers in shop when cow came through . . . and cow land on merchant."

Vikii put her head in her hand and after a second, her body began to make little jerking motions. Vitrine, Pellefer, and Shovel began to hear a tittering laughter.

"Vikii?" asked Vitrine in amazement. "You find this funny?

Vikii looked up, tears streaking down her face in spite of her giggling smile.

"What else can I do, Viti?" she asked. "But laugh?"


	10. Chapter 10 - Waxing Gibbous Moon

The bar was busy tonight. Melody was playing the piano, providing the background music while nearby, Savarre was playing cards with the five D'Vreeze girls. It was not entirely odd to see all five of the sisters together, but all mutually cooperating in some project, even if it was something as ordinary as a game of Red Helms with Savarre was. Melody of course knew the tune she was playing by heart and the piano's keys were more than familiar with her fingers. So familiar that S'nae had more than once suggested it was indecent. Melody thus was able to play gently and observe the five sisters and note their contrasts. M'randa had the dancer's body of her mother, toned and trimmed, dressed in white silk which gently outlined every single feature of her figure. What ever natural modesty she still possessed was slowly vanishing. Melody was certain that this silk robe was even more diaphanous than the one she had worn the last time Melody had seen her. Next to her was R'seria, in her peasant smock, black, red, and white. The twins had identical faces, but once you saw them you knew who was who. R'seria's personality was more down to earth and impish. And unlike her sister's hair, which was long, piled high, and held in place by long thin hair pins, again like her mother, R'seria's hair was cropped, curled, and remained a tousled mass up upon her head, barely covering her long pointed ears. There was S'nae, her head nodding to Melody's melody, her bangs falling between her ears and two pony tails in the back. Next was Ches'rina, her sorceror's robes deep purple with silver threading creating a collection of patterns in the fabric. Her hair was long and flowing and curled and fell down past her shoulders. She looked positively powerful and deadly. But unlike such an outfit as might be found upon her mother, there was no spider web suggestion in the threading. M'thana was last. Dressed in a white blouse and black pantaloons and barefoot, she was still very much the young adolescent in the household and had a very bored look on her face as she looked at the cards. She had the button nose of the household and her hair was short, almost a boy's length.

Melody finished the tune and got up to stretch a kink out of her back. There was scattered applause from those patrons who had not yet learned that you don't applaud musicians who are providing background music. She walked over to the game. Savarre was winning as usual, but from what Melody had learned, M'randa and R'seria were almost capable of reading each other's minds and were always 'teaming up' as it were to take down Savarre in the games. Savarre had a nice sheen of sweat upon his brow, which told everyone who knew him that he was happy because the game was a challenge for him.

The cards began to fly thick and fast as Savarre led and tricks were taken and lost. One by one, the various players collected their tricks. Savarre with six, M'randa and R'searia with two each. S'nae with one. Ches'rina with five and M'thana with one.

"How's the game?" asked Melody from behind S'nae's chair.

"Unkasavi is usual," replied S'nae which meant he was winning again. "The Mimirhorho is running second and Chichi is going in third spot. I'm only ahead of Mithi."

"Don't forget Goudi and I both love you anyway," giggled Melody. She gave S'nae's shoulders a squeeze. "So what's the reason? Sister's night out?"

"Waxing Gibbous Moon," said Savarre in a quite voice.

"Oh!" observed Melody. She knew what that meant. Every girl past adolescence in Beldin knew that.

* * *

Delanna, her green gown flowing in the breeze behind her, and her long thin face calm and serene, walked down the street towards the D'Vreeze townhouse, carrying a basket of left over strawberry pie to give to her favorite children, M'randa, R'seria, S'nae, Ches'rina, and M'thana. She also hoped to have a nice cup of hot tea with Vikii and they could sit by the fire and chat about an upcoming wedding both would be assisting in. Above her head, the moon was a waxing gibbous, soon to be full. It was a quiet spring night in Beldin. The nights had not gotten so short as they would later in the spring before the beginning of the long day, when the sun would not set.

The D'Vreeze townhouse was at the end of a long narrow street, and the house was set against the wall. Vikii hated windows and liked the interior as dark as possible. So Delanna had a good view of the house for the last twenty five yards. And as she approached the door it suddenly flew open.

"Has Vikii foreseen my coming?" she thought. It was not entirely remote as a possibility, Vikii had been becoming more and more in communion with her Goddess Eilistraee as of late and was possessing more and more insights into the general state of affairs in Beldin. Of course, she had always been good at picking up the local news, quickly disseminating it and judging matters, but this was a new addition to her knowledge base. As it was, she was starting to be consulted by the crown. The young King Avery in particular was anxious that she be involved in the selection of his wife.

But this turned out to be not the case at all, as Delanna quickly concluded. For one split second after the door opened, and one of the family friends, Halen, leapt out of the house and sped down the street, while a torrent of high pitched shrieking drow following him. Delanna understood drow, but the combination of Halen's rapid passing and the flying of several small objects which were following Halen out of the door obscured the full text.

But phrases such as "waele kivvil jaluk" (stupid surfacer male) and "el nin lu' tlu cal'tuu" (die and be eaten) and "elrei dos saph natha orbb" (crush you like a spider) were comprehended by her.

Delanna calmly walked on.

A small blue genie rapidly sped out of the door screaming "Glorious master, do not leave your poor lamented servant to the fate of such a dark demon!" and flew by her in a zip. More objects followed out the door, most of whom had aerodynamic designs which prohibited natural flight. The last one however, had a sharp point which hit the genie in the backside and he sped forward even faster with a yelp.

Delanna walked calmly forward.

Savarre dashed out of the door next, his shirt bearing several long tears which suggested sharp manicured fingernails ripping in a cutting motion down.

"Hello dear," said Delanna as he passed.

A large chunk of some piece of furniture followed him.

Five young drow children, all girls, came tumbling out followed by several hurled bottles of acid that smashed and sizzled upon the ground around them.

"Strawberry pie for my darlings?' asked Delanna as they passed.

"Later Anadel!" cried S'nae (who was carrying M'thana, calmly sucking her thumb) as she scurried by.

"Ok girls," replied Delanna.

Vharaun emerged, every inch a Fearthegn's Rider, calmly retiring from the house while several pieces of china, a few teacups, and two copper pans, bounced off his armor.

"Vikii will be so happy to see you," he suggested as he walked by.

The last of the china bounced upon the ground around him.

"I'm glad," replied Delanna.

Vharaun passed on.

She reached the door. There was silence within the darkened interior. As she peered in, she could see the form of Vikii, seated upon the floor, her head bowed, only the faintest glimpse of her bright red eyes visible.

"Hello nigh cousin!" she called in a sing song manner to the hunched over Priestess of Eilistraee.

The form that was Vikii looked up. She replied in a soft, sad, lilt.

"Hello, Del."

"That time of the month, isn't it dear?" suggested Delanna with sympathy in her tone.

"Yeah."

* * *

**In societies ancient and modern, where artificial light was not accessible or invented, women's cycles often - if the woman is receiving good nutrition - align themselves with the phases of the moon. The period will come on with the full and her height of fertility arrive with the new. In today's society, the employment of a low watt bulb (15) in the woman's bedroom, turned on around the full and left off during the rest of the month can produce the same effect if she sleeps under it.**


	11. Chapter 11 - Homecoming

"You remember Calimshan don't you?" queried M'randa looking at S'nae.

"How could I?" replied S'nae. "I was only four!"

"The smells, that tangy spicy spell," sighed R'seria. "I never have gotten over that wish to smell frankincense again."

"And after that where did you go?" asked Melody. "It sounds like such a wonderful trip."

"Well I think we went to Tethyr," mused M'randa. She was idly drawing on the table surface of the booth they were sitting in. "It was around there somewhere. It was after Mamo left us in the wagon with that babysitter which we did horrible things to and she went into that red dragon's lair to negotiate for that ring of wishes."

"Negotiate?"

"Mamo always tries to talk things out first before she calls down that magical godswrath she so loves to unleash," answered M'randa.

"Helped us out of some bad scrapes too," added R'seria. "There was this mob near Amn, I think, going to burn us at the stake since we were drow. Mother called down that acid thunderstorm with all that lightning and the people just . . . melted."

She shuddered a bit.

"Oh it was so cool!" argued M'randa. "One second they were all holding torches, screaming how they were going to make us burn, and the next they were all screaming holding their faces as their flesh fell off their bones." She paused, oblivious to the paling of Melody's face. "You remember that don't you Sisi?"

"I . . . Was . . . Four," repeated S'nae.

"Don't you remember anything Sisi?" asked Melody. "It must have been such an adventure, traveling all the way from Calimshan to Luskin by gypsy wagon."

"Oh I LOVED that wagon," sighed R'seria. "It was way bigger inside than it was outside and me and Mimi had our own bedroom, and Mamo painted it black for us so it was all nice and dark even on the most bright of days in the south."

"But you were born on the surface," argued Melody. "Surely the sun doesn't bother you like it would your mother."

"Who said anything about the sun being too bright," asked M'randa. "We just happen to like it dark."

"What happened to that wagon?" asked Melody.

"It burned down," suggested S'nae giving M'randa and R'seria a long slow look.

The D'Vreeze twins spoke in stereo. It was a manifestation of that curious quirk which caused them to do things simultaneously when they were acting spontaneously as they both faced each other and Melody.

"If/It you/was had/your not/idea dropped/to that/build flask/that of/fire napalm/bomb Rhorho/Mimi."

"Sisi?" asked Melody looking in the ruby red eyes of her best friend and fellow Piper. "Isn't there anything you remember of that trip at all? Something special?"

"I remember, Unkasavi," mused S'nae. "Screaming . . ."

* * *

Savarre was in a good mood. His long brown and braided hair was immaculate, his red, black, with gold trim outfit was the the perfection of snappiness, and he was on his way back from a busy day of card playing and drinking at the bar to the Tree House, there to dine with his darling and beloved Delanna and await the arrival of Vikii D'Vreeze. It had been several tendays since her letter had arrived, and it had announced that she was ready to board the ship that would bring her home. Memories of his and Delanna's long association with this most unusual female drow flooded his mind with various and sundry images. Vikii serving tea in the tree house among all the various powers and characters that made up The Hero's and Heroines of Beldin. Vikii as Seneschal of the Aelfheims, cracking a whip over the heads of servants getting things done. Vikii as a Priestess of Eilistraee . . . dancing . . . her body covered in sweat . . . her whole body mind you, illumined in the moon light as she danced with sword in hand worshipping the only beautiful and good thing that the Drow could call their own . . . dancing . . . naked . . . and in full view of his boudoir . . .

Savarre slapped himself.

"Easy lad," he muttered. "It's going to be hard enough containing your exuberance when she gets back. And Delanna has been worried as of late, and I think you know why."

Indeed he did. Vikii would never dream of coming between him and Delanna . . . but she knew he was attracted to her and he strongly suspected she was attracted to him as well. For nearly two years, he and Delanna had been together without any serious threat to their relationship coming up and yet . . . would that hold true once Vikii had returned? Savarre didn't know what she might do, and he knew very much what she was capable of doing, that being just about anything. Push that woman's buttons in the right way, and the survivors would leave a tale that would frighten their great great great grandchildren into behaving.

But that was all the unknown. So he consoled himself into thinking of the initial joy of homecoming, the return of a woman who had done so much and been such a part of Beldin's history these past years. She would return, with the twins, M'randa and R'seria, who would have their hands full, no doubt, with razors and dye. He shuddered briefly. And there would be a new face, a new child, probably just old enough to walk . . . and carry a dagger. S'nae was her name he seemed to recall, Vikii's daughter by Vharaun. He mulled it over as he walked down the path through the woods towards the Druid's grove where the tree house lay.

Savarre crossed the brook and scurried past the sacred site and around the corner when he paused briefly. There was something new in the glade. What was that doing here?

It was a wagon, a sort of gypsy design, very embellished, sitting over near the cliffs by the running water. It had never been there before. Curious, he walked up to it. There was something odd about it. He was familiar with gypsy wagons, especially those which plied the Sword Coast, but something had happened to this one. It bore the stains of conflict. There were spots, somewhat repaired in places, where the wood and metal had been burned, melted, or dissolved. And the embellishments were a bit off. Instead of the colorful yellows, greens, and browns of the typical wagon, there were the swirls and whorls of black, red, and silver. Hourglass images and black violin images and red stripes were predominant. They were well painted and very delicate in embellishment. Clearly the cultured hand of a scrivener had painted them. That reminded him of something that he could not quite put a finger on.

The door was locked, but he quickly changed that, and opening the door peered within. Like many such wagons, it was larger on the inside than on the outside, ancient folklore magic it was. But it was dark. Very dark. The windows which would mark such a wagon normally were not there. They had been boarded up and refurbished so as to merely be another spot on the wall. Lighting a small taper, he swept the room and found lanterns. These he lit. But he got little light from them, just a faint blue cast through dark glass which his elven eyes were able to somewhat adjust to, but not enough to completely dispel the gloom. But in spite of this absence of light, the furnishings of the wagon seemed quite indicative of normal activity. There was a table which could be lowered into the floor, and mounted chairs on either side of it. There were lowered panels which were filled with soft feather mattresses for sleeping upon, a small partition opened up into a small kitchen with various mushrooms, knives . . . lots of knives . . . more knives that even Delanna had in her Tree House kitchen, barbed forks, brown and pale powders which smelled of must and mildew, various crustacean and fishy products in sealed pots, and a very ornate and delicate filigreed tea serving set and jars which held just the faintest trace of tea within them.

"Almost out," he mused to himself as he examined them briefly.

Beyond that was a small room, which had a nice gimbaled bed and a desk with ink pots, feather quills, cubicles filled with correspondence and lists, and sheaves of parchment. The ink was clearly an odd color, scarlet red, almost as deep red as blood . . . if not as red as blood. There was a tiny crib next to the bed. And beyond that bed was another door to a small bunk room where two bunks were set against one wall while the other wall held cupboards and drawers.

The closet in the main bedroom was what finally hit him. Inside were long gowns of deepest black and red with silver filigree, or long, thin, practically see through white silk. Among them was a long scabbard with a long thin sword.

"She's here!" he shouted inwardly, though almost out loud.

It had to be the wagon Vikii had written about. The one she had been traveling in from Calimshan to the Friendly Arms Inn. Savarre dashed out of the room. No doubt Vikii was already having tea with Delanna and chatting gaily about things. He only knocked his knee against the table as he left giving him a slight wince of sharp pain. He leaped down the stairs, or would have had his leg not been stinging, and closed and locked the door behind him. Then he turned and started towards the ladder leading to the tree house.

Or intended to.

One of the largest, biggest, nastiest looking giant dire wolf spiders he had ever seen was standing between him and the ladder, just staring at him with eight tiny little beady primitive eyes. Like all arachnids, it was able to be perfectly still while it sensed his presence.

Savarre gulped.

The spider responded by clicking it's fangs together in a chicka chicka chicka noise.

"Bobo?" queried Savarre.

"chicka chicka chicka"

"Bobo?" asked Savarre again, remembering to address the spider through his nose, to produce that high pitched keen that Vikii would call the spider in, as well as sing her various folk songs from the under dark.

"chicka chicka chicka"

It's me, Savi," continued Savarre, slowly inching himself to the right as he tried to get around the creature and find his way to the ladder. He had forgotten about Vikii's pet spider. Apparently it had grown.

"You remember me don't you?" he asked.

"chicka chicka chicka"

"Remember how I used to toss you little kittens for a snack?" he asked.

It was a base lie and he knew it. He never would throw Bobo's favorite food to that spider. Indeed, even when Bobo was only half the size he was now, Savoire had no taste for the creature and tried to see it as seldom as possible.

The spider gave no indication that it remembered. Either it recalled he did not, or it simply did not have the brain power to understand what remembering was.

"chicka chicka chicka"

Savarre was ready to take one more step and dash for the ladder when a sudden snap and spring and yank sent him into the air, upside down, and hanging by a leg. The spider suddenly leaped . . . and gamboled off to the west.

"A spring trap!" he muttered to himself once he had recovered from the fear that Bobo was about to add elf to his favorite between meal snacks. He looked up, there it was, a thin white silken rope noose, about his right ankle, holding him so that his head was just three feet above the ground. He began to lift himself up when a sudden tear in this boot made him stop. The noose had something in it. Savarre looked harder. Sure enough, small metal slivers, very sharp, had been embedded into the noose rope and were piercing his very fine high quality Amn fashion leather boots. Someone would pay!

But first, he had to figure out how to get out of this before those razors sliced completely through the leather and started slicing through his skin and muscle to the bone. He began to sweat.

"It's Unkasavi!"

"Unkasavi! Yay!"

"Thuck Thuck Thuck"

Savarre did not have to look before he had figured out who had made those noises, for a swift small dark gray skinned hand turned him around and he found himself looking at three young drow girls. There were the tousled twins, M'randa and R'seria, almost entirely alike, with their thick white hair parted down the middle and cropped at the base of the neck looking at him with bright ultraviolet eyes and mischievous grins on their faces. Behind them was a small toddler, barely out of infancy, holding a stuffed hobgoblin's head pillow and sucking her thumb somewhat loudly. They were all dressed in D'Vreeze colors, scarlet red and velvet black.

"Whatcha doin' in our halfling trap, Unkasavi?" asked M'randa.

"You look kinda silly," added R'seria.

"Did you see Bobo?" continued M'randa.

"Thuck Thuck Thuck"

"Um, yes I did," answered Savarre, playing for time. "He went that way," pointing in the direction he thought the spider had leapt.

"He was supposed to tell us when we got something," sighed R'seria. "He promised."

"Well you know how spiders are," suggested Savarre.

"Yeah I do," snapped R'seria. "So don't try to tell me."

"Well, Ok," replied Savarre. "Now be kind little priestesses of Eilistraee and let me down so I can meet your mother and we can all have fun together."

"I'm not a priestess," said R'seria.

"And I'm only a 'prentice," observed M'randa.

"Thuck Thuck Thuck."

"But you want to be kind like your Mamo, yes?" suggested Savarre.

"Mamo beat me with a whip this morning," said R'seria.

"And she made me write, 'I won't torture little boys' a hundred times this morning," sighed M'randa.

"Thuck Thuck Thuck"

Savarre's tone was beginning to develop that certain edge that suggests abject begging.

"You are going to let me down aren't you?"

"Gotta play with us first!" said M'randa.

"Ok," sighed Savarre. "What do we play?"

"Barbershop!" shouted R'seria.

M'randa took up the chant and all two of them began to dance. "Barbershop! Barbershop! Barbershop!"

"NO For The LOVE Of All the GODS and GODDESSES NOT THAT!"

The girls paused in their mid dancing. The grace that was in their childish frames was already suggesting a dexterity of movement which marked Vikii's constant training of them. It reminded him of her dancing so much, he could perhaps be excused from what he said next.

"What do you wanna play Unkasavi?" asked M'randa.

"How about Doctor?" he answered.

Then he had a vision of what might happen shortly in the near future.

"It was out of my mouth before I ever knew it had happened!" he cried to Delanna in his sudden vision. She was standing before him, not believing a word of it, holding aloft the final energy for a spell which would cause the earth to open up and swallow him, sucking him down into the magma deep below.

But in reality, the girls were dancing about and saying "Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!"

"You be the nurse Mimi" said R'seria.

"You be the nurse Rhorho" shouted M'randa. "I'm gonna be doctor 'cause I'm the one with the heal spells!"

"Will not!"

"Will too Jaluk!"

"Nyah!"

"Spiderbait!"

"Needer Needer Needer Nucklehead"

"Rivvin!"

"Stuuuuupid"

"Thuck Thuck Thuck"

The kicking was already in full swing and daggers were being drawn when suddenly M'randa shouted, "Sisi!"

"Sisi will be the nurse!" shouted R'seria.

"Yay!" shouted the two.

"Thuck Thuck Thuck"

"Well that's settled," suggested Savarre. "Now since I'm the head doctor . . "

"You're the patient Unkasavi," announced M'randa.

"Oh yes, very sick indeed," added R'seria.

"Gotta bad case of upsidownidis," mused M'randa.

"Thuck Thuck Thuck"

"Then just let me down and turn me over!" begged Savarre. "It'll be a miracle cure! That would be fun wouldn't it?"

"Need an operation," suggested M'randa.

"We have to take the brain," agreed R'seria.

"Gonna have to shave the scalp first," said M'randa.

"Thuck thuck thuck."

Savarre was amazed at the sudden appearance of razors and scissors in both hands of the twins. He suddenly realized that this had probably been the plan all along, the moment they saw him in the trap anyway.

"Sisi!" shrieked Savarre. "Save me!"

Sisi, otherwise known as S'nae, got up from her seat on a nearby stone, and toddled over to Savarre and looked up at him. She seemed so gentle and innocent in her youth. She took her thumb out of her mouth and gently put a slightly damp finger, reaching up as high as she could, brushing Savarre's nose.

And then she spoke two words. Or rather, one word twice. It was clear she was just learning to talk for she could not pronounce the word entirely correct. But what she said told Savarre all he needed to know.

"Sthnip sthnip." she said.

Savarre screamed a cry of agonizing despair and hopelessness.

Meanwhile, up about forty feet, to the left, and a matter of seconds earlier, Delanna, in her long green bodice and blue hair done up in a pony tail that dropped to the midpoint of her back, was gaily chatting with a young drow woman, her silver white hair held up with two long pins. The two of them were holding mugs of steaming tea and walking along the outer palisade that acted as the wraparound porch of the tree house. Delanna was smiling. Vikii was happily skipping along the palisade and pausing amid chatter, to twirl about as she renewed her fondness for the place.

"I can't believe I'm finally back," Vikii sighed.

"It has been a long time," agreed Delanna. "And it's good to have you back nigh cousin."

"I'm so glad . . . it's been so lonely," replied Vikii, "really it has. I've missed everyone so much and now, I can settle down again, raise my children, love Vharaun, and be happy."

Delanna began to open her mouth and say something when a sudden shriek emanated from below them.

The two girls scurried over to the edge of the palisade and peered over.

"Oh look!" squealed Delanna, clasping her hands in front of her face. "Savarre has found the girls and is playing with them."

"They are definitely playing with him," observed Vikii in a droll tone.

"It's amazing how fast he is climbing up that rope," crooned Delanna. "Of course he always has had that talent, but I've never seen him so animated."

"And note that M'randa is lowering the other end of the rope at the same time," mused Vikii with a slight mischievous smile. "I wonder if it's a race to see if he can get up on that branch or the girls can lower him to the ground first."

"So is Bobo going to catch him when he gets to the top?" asked Delanna wide eyed and pointing to the large spider that was at the top of the branch excitedly clicking his mandibles.

"I wonder," mused Vikii. "I suspect dear Savi has no intention of being caught by Bobo, and I hope he knows Bobo is up on that branch waiting for him."

"Well if it's all part of the game, what harm is there in it?" queried Delanna.

"Well," sighed Vikii. "Like all spiders, Bobo is not particularly intelligent and as hard as I've tried, he really doesn't understand that you're not supposed to eat the people you catch."

"Oh dear!" gasped Delanna. "Vikii?"

"mmmm yes?"

"Are our little darlings being naughty?"

"All the signs are there, the scissors and razors the twins are holding, not to mention the torture chant they are keening."

"But I especially went through the tree house to hide all those things," objected Delanna.

"Goodness, they didn't have to raid the tree house darling. They have their own supply," replied Vikii. "They went shopping at the Friendly Arms once they knew we were coming back to live here."

"I supposed we had better rescue him," sighed Delanna.

"And heat the 'Bad Girl' branding irons," added Vikii.

"And our tea's going to get cold," sighed Delanna.

"Yes," replied Vikii with a world weary inflection. "And this was the last of it. I was saving it for when you and I got together too."

"The world is hard sometimes," mused Delanna.

Both girls paused to lean on the edge of the palisade's barrister and sigh.

Being a Chevron of the Beldin Adventurer's Guild had it's advantages, especially a man so established as Savarre. For all his foppish qualities, he knew how to survive. Upon realizing that Bobo was in the attack mode at the top of the branch, Savarre paused mid-climb to assess how fast M'randa was lowering the rope. But in so assessing, he realized that she was about to run out of it. Knowing that he would stand a better chance of breaking into a run upon hitting the ground if he were lower, he let her think she was gaining on him. But just as the rope let go and he fell the last six feet, completely relaxed and ready to spring, he heard the voice of an angel, or more likely, Delanna.

"Our girls being bad?" she cried. There were tears in her eyes.

M'randa and R'seria suddenly looked downcast and hid the scissors and razors behind them. S'nae just watched wide eyed as she sucked her thumb.

"We were just pretendin'" explained R'seria, pointing at M'randa. "Mimi said we should play with Unkasavi."

"It was Unkasavi's game," argued M'randa, pointing at Savarre. "He said we should play Doctor."

"Thuck thuck thuck" S'nae looked to see who wasn't being pointed at and decided to point to Delanna.

Delanna beamed with delight and kneeling down, held her arms out for S'nae, who, with a little smile, toddled over to her and let Delanna pick her up and hold her next to her shoulder. Snuggled so, S'nae quietly sucked her thumb.

"Oh you are such a darling," cooed Delanna delightfully. "I'm your Anadel, did Mamo tell you that?"

S'nae looked up and smiled, then snuggled back on Delanna's shoulder.

"Hanabel," she said.

Then S'nae turned and gave Savarre a little look out of the corner of her eye.

"Oooooh," thought Savarre to himself. "She's going to be very wicked indeed."

"That's right," giggled Delanna. "I'm your Anadel and we'll do all sorts of fun things together now that you're home."

"Hanabel," cooed S'nae.

"And you'll come see me and Unkasavi every day?"

S'nae squealed and clapped her hands.

Savarre broke into a cold sweat.

"MIMIRHORHO YOUR MOTHER IS VERY ANGRY!" came a voice of doom over the mists of the forest.

"Um," observed M'randa, "I think I hear Mamo calling us."

"We gotta go now," added R'seria.

Both girls turned to dash in the direction least likely to be the direction their mother was located.

"Girls?" said Delanna gently, but with just the faintest suggestion of command in it.

The twins froze, knowing that doom hung by a thread.

"Your Mamo's that way," Delanna said.

Savarre pointed the direction out with a grim expression and pleased twinkle in his eyes.

Heads hung down, and knowing their fate was sealed, the twins slowly marched to the place of execution.

Savarre simply stood and stared in amazement at the strange power that Delanna still was able to exert on the children of Vikii. They always obeyed her, even when they knew what dire fate was in store for them. No one, not even Vikii, knew how she did it.

S'nae snuggled back into Delanna's shoulder and Delanna sighed contentedly.

"I had forgotten how much my arms long to hold children," she said.

"Um," suggested Savarre.

"Now what was this about playing, 'doctor'?" asked Delanna with a slight edge in her voice.

The sudden cries and wails of two twin drowlings, the sneering cruel drow maledictions from their mother, and the faint smell of third degree burns, filled the air.

"Just not going to be as quiet around here from now on," mused Savarre, deftly changing the subject.

"Yes," sighed Delanna. "They're home."


	12. Chapter 12 - Tempus Night

**At the time of these stories being written on the Bioware forums for Neverwinter Nights, the server which I was on at the time, Aerlith began to be very popular in part because people were talking about the stories which were popping up. It struck me as very helpful to mention as many of the player characters as possible in the stories since that had an impact on server participation. But it was often the case with many of the participants that they would level their character up, drop them, and start another. It was consequently often hard to get a handle on any of their characters to be able to write a good story about them. So I came up with this solution at one point.**

* * *

"So how did your mother and father get married?" asked Melody. "I mean drow don't normally get married do they?"

"Not in the underdark," replied S'nae, her finger running along the rim of the glass of wine she was sipping in the bar with Melody. They were in a booth which possessed not a few dings from prior bar brawls.

"So how did it happen then? If your mother found the idea alien . . ."

"She didn't," replied S'nae. "She really was a scared little girl at the bottom of it all, was always plagued with nightmares that only went away when she was sleeping with someone. And I do mean literally sleeping with someone, not the sleeping with someone you normally think of when you think of sleeping with someone.

"You mean like I sleep with my teddy bear as opposed to you sleeping with Goudie?" queried Melody with a little wicked grin.

"I've seen what you do to that teddy bear," retorted S'nae with a wicked grin back. "Goudie and I are practically virginal in our behavior next to that."

"And how would YOU know?" replied Melody. "You aren't even there."

"Let the record show that she demanded evidence for proof rather than just simple denial like the innocent do," pronouced S'nae with an 'Ah ha! See I told you so!' grin upon her face.

"Curses she's on to me," sighed Melody with mock horror. "But for you to claim that you are so squeaky clean when you've only been married three weeks. Right girl, there's no such thing as a bride of three weeks who's squeaky clean. I've seen the look on Goudie's face at review. He's exhausted."

"It's the drill, honest!" insisted S'nae. "The Paladins are really working out new defensive tactics and it's a lot of hard labor."

"Of which he's always handled with ease and a grin. Now he's married to a drow who's mother had a well established reputation for insatiability and she says it's the drill."

"Oh alright, I confess," sighed S'nae. "We're trying to break one of the more infamous of Chevron records for the Adventurer's Guild."

"That is the Sisi I know," pronounced Melody. "Now back to your mother."

"Yes, back to my mother," sighed S'nae. "Like I said. She liked the idea of having a person she would be sleeping with each night which people would accept so when she and Vharaun, my favi, err dad, began to really like each other she proposed the marriage idea."

"And he agreed?"

"Of course he agreed. The institution, among other things, strongly frowns upon killing your spouse when you are mad at them and favi was no fool. He knew that by her proposal, she was on some level swearing an oath that she would never kill him and feed him to Bobo. Being your typical drow male from the underdark, that was the best deal any drow male had ever gotten from a female."

"So they actually got married?"

"Yeah, and remained so until he was killed fighting Vermatile."

"The dragon," sighed Melody.

"Yeah," continued S'nae sadly. "The dragon." She paused for a moment. "But there was one crazy mishap. You see, favi's friends threw what they called a Bachelor's Party. That ended up in a big brawl and he was out cold for three days and missed the wedding."

"And your mother didn't kill him?"

"Well favi's friend came by, at great risk to his own personal well being, and explained it to mother; well sort of explained it. She's never really understood the difference. Anyway he explained it before she destroyed more than the living room and Unkasavi's new hair style and fashion ensemble."

"Poor Savarre," sighed Melody. "How does he survive?"

"Don't ever underestimate him," warned S'nae. "There's more to him than meets the eye."

* * *

Keyna Fearthegn walked into the Bar on the night of Tempus in a somewhat somber mood. Her buddies (the katanna and kukri in their respective sheaths) bounced off her hips and thighs as she half walked half stomped up to the bar. Pausing to brush aside a bang of her red hair from a freckled cheek she snapped.

"Hey barboy? Lizardboy pickin's are slim, I can only afford one bottle of yer North Karen hooch, pass it over!"

"You know, most of my friends call me Alan," suggested the bartender, who passed over a single bottle of clear distilled alcohol to Keyna.

"Whatever you say barboy," she replied.

Slapping her money down with her right hand, she held the bottle in her left and yanked the cork off with her teeth. Producing a small shot glass with an enameled rose upon the side (her purty glass), she poured herself a shot and drained it in a single gulp.

"Taint half as good as what we can get in the Shannon woods," she muttered.

"I do my best," said Alan. "You know how seldom any hooch actually makes it here."

"Yeah!" replied Keyna with a wave of her hand. "Ah do, which is why Ah ain't that often here."

She slammed another shot.

"Keyna," began Alan.

"Yeah, barboy?"

Alan sighed but persisted.

"You know, a nice dress and a comb in your hair and a face washing and you would be a pretty girl," he started.

Keyna's eyes narrowed. "And jest what are you suggestin?" she asked.

"I'm a married man," began Alan. "But of all the women that walk into this Bar, in all the years I've been pouring down drinks, you are the least girlish, the least feminine, the least jalil I've ever seen."

"Guess you's lucky then barboy that I'm back. An Ah see you've picked up a bit a darklin' too."

"I hear it all the time," replied Alan. "How can I not pick up a few words here and there."

"Yeah, lot's o darklin's here," replied Keyna. "Ah was so used ta slittin' their throats back in the Shannon Woods that when Ah first got here Ah thought Ah had walked inta a darklin' raid and nearly slaughtered the entire street clear of 'em."

"I remember," chuckled Griff. "They hauled you screaming and kicking and biting into the Court Hall. Half the Ferrets from the crown had black eyes and broken noses."

"Good scrap it was," mused Keyna grinning.

"So why are you such a tomboy?" asked Alan. "Did you not have any girls to grow up with back on the farm"

Keyna paused, slammed down another shot, and leaned on one elbow, her fingers twiddling with her shot glass while she appeared to lean on the bottle she was holding on the bar. "Ah was born in a little farmstead next ta nothin'. Ma mama died birthin' me and Ah grew up with seven brothers and ma papa."

"No sisters?"

"Jest one fer a bit."

"Your father remarried."

"Nah, we 'dopted her." Keyna slammed down another shot. The bottle was half drained already.

"From a another family then?"

"Nope we found her and took her home and raised her for nearly three years."

"Found her? On the side of the road?"

"Nah . .," Keyna took out two more shots from the bottle. "There's this cave that we use for our barn, big at the front, little in the back, goes way back Ah guess, 'cause we never seen the end of it. It's all sorta blocked up with rocks. Well me and mah brothers were muckin' it out and sure enough out from the back comes crawling this little darklin' slip of a girl, in a thin little tattered smock so dirty we ain't never figured out what color it twas s'posed ta be, one hand holdin' a dagger so hard we couldn't pry it out of her even when she was passed out cold. I was all fer slittin' her throat 'afore she got better. But my big brother Matta, he persuades me otherwise since he hit me over the head with his rake handle real hard. By the time I could get back up and know I was in the barn, she was already sleepin' in mah room."

"Really now?" observed Alan with a slight smile. "This is Vikii, right?"

"Ayep," replied Keyna

"So you decided she was your sister?"

"Not yet," replied Keyna. "Ah got back and wanted ta know what she was a doin' in mah bed and they said she was too purty to be evil and Ah said that they's thinkin' but not with their brains, and then Matta he hits me over the back of the head agin with the hooch jug and Ah decided ta simmer down once Ah got back off of the floor next mornin."

"So . . . " mused Alan cautiously. "Were your brother's hopes unfounded?"

"Ah, think she was in the back o' the barn with all of 'em . . ." muttered Keyna. "Afor she left."

"So why did you adopt her as your sister?" asked Alan.

"'cause she liked me and Ah ain't had no sister afor," said Keyna, leaning on the bar for a moment. "Said Ah took no guff from all them jaluk's and that she had no sister herself anymore. That was when she wasn't in a delirium. She was kinda out of the head most of the time the first three months she was with us."

Keyna slammed a few more shots down.

"So why did she go?" asked Griff.

"Darklins were raiding all over the dangburn place and ah was with the bounders every other night lookin' fer 'em ta slit their throats afor they could burn stuff an kill folks. And folks started ta talkin' 'bout how them Fearthegns had a darklin spy."

Keyna sighed and filled her glass again a few more times.

"So we wrapped her up in thick wool blankets and two o' mah brothers put her in the back o' the wagon and filled it with hay and they rode her down the road and took her here ta Beldin. She ain't never lived with me since but Ah don't mind. We see each other whenever."

Several new patrons appeared at the bar and ordered a keg of ale. Alan left to serve them and Keyna continued to finish off the bottle.

Varent, nearby at the bar, eyed her over as she continued to slam shots down. With a predatory grin, he slid over next to her and with his right hand, gave a particular protuberance between her back and upper legs a hard squeeze.

Alan, who's eye was always about the tavern, suspecting trouble was about to come, came back to the pair.

Keyna, who was holding yet another filled glass, looked at Varent. Then she gave the nearly empty bottle back to Alan, slammed down the shot, and then put the glass back into her little belt pouch. She turned to face Varent, her eyes fire and brimstone.

"You tryin' ta pick me up boy?" she queried in a manner which sounded like a major challenge which could be next to, if not entirely, impossible to overcome.

Varent, who loved challenges, especially after he had just been released from jail, replied back.

"What of it hot stuff?" he replied. "I like a woman with spit and fire, and who'll put up a fight. You and me, upstairs, in a room, fight it out real private like. You can hit and scream and punch and resist all you want. I like it that way. 'cause I always win in the end."

He reached forward and placed both his hands on yet another set of protuberances.

"Dragonboy!" shouted Keyna. "Meet Lefty Mah Fist!"

And she landed a left fist punch on Varent's face, it's impact just above the lip and just below the nose.

. . . . Five minutes later . . .

Savarre, his gold trimmed outfit reflecting the moon and star light, opened the door to the Bar and allowed Vitruvia, Beldin's only psionic planeswalker to enter.

"I detect a great deal of exuberance from the crowd tonight," she surmised as she walked over Feonir and Elvith, engaged in the typical Elven/Drow banter - chiefly consisting in going for each other's throats.

"Yes, a rowdy one tonight it seems," replied Savarre, gracefully ducking a flying ale keg.

"Do you think it's safe to proceed?" she asked. Her pinched gith face seemed to detect much of the brawl which was taking place around her, in spite of the fact that she was otherwise blind. She was able then to step back as a thrown halfling, named Nonoki, whizzed by.

"No problem," assured Savarre, gracefully passing the myriad swinging chairs and table legs with out so much as a strand of his hair put out of place. "I'm quite familiar with this element and I can assure you of your complete safety."

Vitruvia paused and held up a forearm which one second later, was impacted by the back of Alexander James. He fell forward and she moved on.

"I seem to be able to understand the means of safe passage here," she concluded.

"Shall we proceed to the bar then?" queried Savarre. He slapped the approaching hand of Lumi who was seeking his coin purse. She yelped and scurried off for an easier target.

"Are you sure we can have a drink in here at this moment?" Vitruvia asked. Mephisto hurled a chair at Bran, which missed and would have hit Vitruvia in the back had she not stepped out of the way.

"I do need to meet Shovel here," replied Savarre scanning the crowd, rolling and milling and dancing among flying objects so much like a field of wheat in the midst of a tornado. "Ah there he is! Shavi!"

Shovel, his left hand holding an ale mug filled to the brim and foamy, and his right hand clenched firmly around the ankles of Dreana, and twirling her about his head as a block for all flying debris, smiled at Savarre. He seemed to be singing a lusty orcan drinking song, or battle song, or slaughtering song. Shovel insisted there was a difference, but neither Savarre or any other of the Heroes or Heroines of Beldin's Adventurer's Guild, even the Bards such as Jierdan - who was staggering by trying to pick harp strings out of his teeth, or Silma - who's ankle was tied up by a guitar string to one of the hanging lamps and being used as a punching bag by Booger, could tell the difference.

"I seem to detect a great deal of emotion from that little halfling that Shovel is twirling about his head," mused Vitruvia.

"No need to worry," assured Savarre. "She's got all her buffs up."

"Cease and desist!" cried Gabriel, now standing at the door of the Bar. He had just entered, having heard the commotion outside.

"Order in the town must be maintained at all time!" He continued. His white raiment dazzled in the candlelight and his hand held out in a gesture of peace seemed to radiate a quiet power and authority throughout the Bar. There was a brief instant of quiet.

Reis and Kakashi, standing just in front of Gabriel, who had been about to hit each other with chairs, shared a silent visual agreement with each other and slammed them instead into Gabriel.

"I guess the dice will have to wait," mused Savarre. Shovel had just discovered that Dreana's buffs had gone down and was unable to stop the table that had just been broken over his head.

"Innovative little halfling to have used that board as a lever to send that table into Shovel's back," observed Vitruvia.

"Yes, Peridoc is a clever one," replied Savarre. He rapped Lumi's head this time as she sought out his coin purse.

"Evening Halen," he continued as Halen staggered by and passed out next to him.

"Savarre," replied Halen with his last conscious breath. He probably would have waved a greeting too, had not his brain been in the process of shutting down for the night thanks to the assistance of six separate chair legs impacting his skull.

By now they had reached, by somewhat circuitous route, the bar. Savarre seemed to have a spot in mind, a corner near the exit. Reaching it, he looked over and behind the bar.

"Hello Alan, a bottle of your latest import champaign? I'm entertaining a new resident to the Guildhall," he asked.

Behind him the voice of Guardian was heard.

"Sensors indicate high intensity bar brawl, take evasive action." (CLANG!) "Sensors indicate high pain intensity in upper shoulder region, override evasive action, initiate offensive action" (CRASH! SLAM! CRUNCH! "gurgle")

"Sure thing Savarre," came Alan's voice from a small shelter under the corner of the bar. A hand came up with the requested bottle and shortly thereafter, two nicely fluted champaign glasses.

Savarre held up the champaign bottle and proceeded to start to remove the cork.

"Teelie throw chair on Savarre, yes, yes?" came the voice of a tiny Fey, named Teelie, hovering near the pair, hold aloft a chair 100 times her size.

"Pop!" sounded the cork which whizzed straight and hit Teelie square in the chest, or more appropriately, the entirety of her torso.

Teelie was carried by the force of the cork's inertia back several yards while the chair crashed upon the head of Edward, Paladin of Torm.

Savarre poured the bubbling wine into the glasses and handed one to Vitruvia.

"Welcome to Beldin," he exclaimed. "May she always be tolerant."

The two lifted their glasses in a toast as Pollyanna, Priestess of Suné, slid by on the bar.

"I find irony in your voice," observed Vitruvia, stepping back as Romero Lathenello landed between them, hit the bar just right, and tumbled over it.

From behind the bar one could hear a spring and Romero flew up and over the their heads while a piece of the floor, attached by a large flexible spring, tossed him up and then resumed it's position as yet another wood parquet tile upon the floor.

"I see Binkelheim's invention still works," mused Savarre.

"Binkleheim?" queried Vitruvia.

Savarre was unable to answer for the two of them once again had to briefly part as Keyna slammed back into the bar. She paused and looked at Savarre. Her face was blacked by three bruises, her hair was filled with broken glass fragments, and when she smiled at him, her teeth were outlined by her blood.

"Heya elfboy?" she said. "Why ain't cha in this here bar brawl yet?"

"Should I be?" queried Savarre.

The question was purely rhetorical on his part, but he didn't know Keyna that well.

"I think you should," she snapped. "Meet Righty Mah Fist!"

. . . Five Minutes Later . . .

Savarre, with a small whisk broom he always kept in a small belt pouch, brushed the last bits of the fight from his clothing and examined the mirror in front of him. The mirror was in four pieces, held together with the assistance of two bar maids, one with a bodice torn down to her navel and the other with a black eye.

"Is this the best mirror you have?" asked Savarre, looking at Alan.

"Well I had a better one," admitted Alan, who was polishing up the bar. "But that's the only one left that can be somewhat reassembled for your use."

"I suppose it will have to do," answered Savarre with a sigh. He checked the spot on the upper lip where Keyna's fist had impacted. The Cure Utterly Insignificant Wounds potion had done the trick and now it was not so much as the slightest shade of pink. The pain had vanished soon enough. His hair was in place, only a few strands had parted during his efforts at winning the brawl, and his clothing's wrinkles had been swept out. He was back to the snappy fellow he always insisted upon being.

"While I'm thinking of it," he said, turning to Alan. "I suppose as the last one standing . . . "

"As always," replied Alan.

" . . . I had best take care of paying you for the damages."

Alan scanned the Bar's common room. Every single piece of furniture was so much broken timber now and piled along the sides of the walls. The floor was covered in groaning bodies.

"Would be appreciated," admitted Alan. "But in all fairness, I don't recall you taking a collection from the rest however."

"No problem!," replied Savarre. "Lumi did the job for me."

Lumi, who's head was buried into the side of a plastered wall over near the exit, made a muffled groan.

Savarre walked over with Lumi's bulging coin purse and placed it on the bar counter.

"Hey elfboy," came a groan from the floor near Savarre's feet.

He looked down, it was Keyna.

"Jest wanted ta thank you for showing this girl a good time," she said. Then she closed her eyes and went to sleep, or passed out, Savarre wasn't sure which.

"I fail to see the entertainment value in this event," mused Vitruvia. She had stood to the side during the final climactic fury which had been unleashed once Savarre had decided that Keyna's invitation could not be turned down.

"Yoooo Hooooo Savi!"

"Savi dear?"

Savarre and Viturvia turned to face the direction of the new voices. There, at the doorway was Delanna and Vikii.

"Dear?" asked Delanna scanning the room with a bit of concern. "What happened?"

"Savi?" snapped Vikii, her hands on her hips. "Have you been having a bachelor party?"

One's culture has thousands of little presumed truths to it that one takes for granted, and when encountering a culture which is alien, these little truths often misinterpret events or are the cause of others thinking you are a bit quirky. That is the shortest and simplest explanation for Vikii's question.

"Well, spontaneous," answered Savarre. "But as you can see . . . I'm fine."

"Always looking dapper dear," replied Delanna.

"Well," continued Vikii. "We're going to the treehouse and there will be pancakes by Bran for us. Are you coming along?"

"The pancakes will have to wait," replied Savarre, looking at a particular collection of the strewn unconscious.

"Wait?" asked Delanna. "But Clarissa and Creadyladd are waiting for us and no doubt starving."

"I suppose I could whip up something," mused Vikii.

"Well we'll be innovative I'm sure," replied Savarre. "Let us go."

And the four of them departed into the night.


	13. Chapter 13 - Curious Behavior

S'nae D'Vreeze, with a big grin on her face, half trotted half bounded into the Bard's College Common Room. She proceeded to pull out the bottom of her blouse and unbutton two of the buttons and tie the blouse up above her waist. Her belly now exposed, with a slight pooch in it, was then slapped rhythmically by her palms while she was happily singing . . .

_It's a bump, It's a bump,_  
_It's a bump! Bump! Bump!_  
_It's a bump, It's a bump,_  
_It's a bump! Bump! Bump!_  
_It's a bump, It's a bump,_  
_It's a bump! Bump! Bump!_  
_It's a buuuuuuump!_  
_It's a baby bump!_

It took a second for everyone in the room to catch on what S'nae was actually saying. Then as several of her friends began to clap and cheer, Melody came up and hugged her.

"You haven't been married a year!" she cried. "Already?"

"Why not?" replied S'nae, tucking her blouse back into her skirt. "I mean Goudie and I have only been doing what comes naturally. Isn't this what's supposed to happen if you do that?"

"Well yes but . . ."

"Silly girl, think about it. You can't plan these things, they happen regardless of what you might think or do."

"What do you want Sisi? Boy or girl?"

"Don't know," replied S'nae. "Yet. Mother wants a girl, Goudie wants a boy, I want what Goudie wants, but I also would like a girl . . . So I've decided to be surprised."

"Girl then!" proclaimed Melody. "And she'll be a singer and performer just like her mother."

"Why not?" mused S'nae. "I inherited my performing bug from my mother . . ."

* * *

The Heart of Hanali Festival, known as The Secrets of the Heart, was in a few days time and Savarre was getting concerned over Vikii's odd behavior. In his mind, she had been acting rather strangely. It wasn't that she was taking up more time at the mirror. Savi saw to that. He knew how to time her wake up based upon the twins stirring activity so he was always able to get to it first. That was crucial. He had to make certain that his hair was braided proper, his red and black clothing with gold trim was snappy, and his face was clean scrubbed and shining. Naturally he considered this the essential element of his presentation, and after a night with Del, he was invariably disheveled, a condition which he would rather die than be seen in. But Vikii was more a sister now than a friend, and she had seen him after the twins had gotten to him on occasion and outside of a few giggles, insisted on remaining unshocked or not disgusted by his failure to be picture perfect. He didn't know if he should be glad or upset about this, but it was part of life now and he was used to it.

No, she was spending her late mornings in front of the mirror and she was doing the oddest things. The most unusual - for Savi - was her persistent efforts to balance a bottle of wine on her head and posing carefully keeping an eye on her every feature. Then she would work out gestures, and likewise address herself in Drow, which neither he or Delanna could understand. In fact, the twins, having been raised entirely on the surface, barely knew Drow themselves as Vikii often talked to them in Common, as did Delanna and Savarre.

"Maybe she's working on her dance posture," proposed Delanna one morning as she and Savarre were having breakfast.

"I highly doubt that," replied Savarre. "It simply makes no sense. I've seen her dance, and . . ."

"You have?" asked Delanna. There was a twinkle in her eyes.

Savarre always was a bit uneasy about Vikii's general sense of modesty and decorum, not to mention her occasional outburst of well nigh scandalous flirtation. But her devotion to Eilistraee was the moment of decision for him. The crises would usually come every other week when the moon hit the table in the dining area just right. Vikii would, without so much as a 'by your leave' stand up, pull her hair pins out, shake out her long hair so that it fell it's full length, now to the midpoint of her thighs, then with a single fluid motion, unclasp her neck pin and let the dress fall right off of her. There was never any underwear underneath in the evenings. Then, with a single flick of each of her feet, the shoes would fly off and she'd prance -she always had to do it with a prance that made her breasts jiggle in that rather . . . disconcerting fashion - and find her long bastard sword. Then it was out onto the south east flet where she would dance in a frenzy of intense acrobatics for at least a half an hour and on full moons, for two to three hours straight.

Now Savarre knew it was all supposed to be religious, and it seemed so for often the moon beams would insist upon arranging themselves so that they completely illumined her while she danced. And even once, he had sworn that he had seen her joined by a taller, darker, and more exquisitely sculptured drow woman and the two had danced a duet in perfect harmony. Vikii had been very happy that night afterwards. But if one young woman dancing nude and illumined under the moon was bad enough, two was torture.

But the conclusion of these night reveries didn't help much. For afterwards she was invariably hot, and would Not Get Dressed but rather flop down on the couch, stretch out, and call for the twins who would toddle up, climb up on her and get nursed until they were sleepy. Then she would take them to bed, and return, still undressed, and stretch out on the couch yet again and start out with, "So how was your day, Savi?" or she would sigh, roll over on her stomach, and holding one leg up with curled toes, look at him and say something along the lines of, "So why can't I get anyone to ask me out?"

Those are hard enough questions for any man to answer to a woman but when she is serenely relaxed and naked while doing it, and possessing a sculptured perfectly toned body to boot . . .

"Errm," offered Savarre to Delanna. "The windows you see. They completely surround the flet, you can't avoid the . . . view . . . outside you know."

"Yes?" continued Delanna. She knew that Savarre loved her and not Vikii, and likewise knew that Vikii would never dream of coming between the two of them. But she knew Vikii had her quirks and likewise found Savarre's reactions to them a bit amusing. She had no idea how much her naivety helped keep her marriage stable.

"Her dancing is rather . . . robust," he finished.

"I see," finished Delanna. She was playing just a little suspicious to see how Savarre would respond.

"And so she can't be balancing a wine bottle on her head for poise, there's no way it could be applied to her style of dance."

"So you think there's another reason?" asked Delanna. She paused to nibble on a roll with mildly narrowed eyes.

"But of course!" replied Savarre.

"Of course," finished Delanna quietly.

"Del!" cried Savarre. "I love you and not Vikii."

Delanna smiled, for she had gotten her compliment, and Savarre, unaware of how much he had just been played, exhaled in relief.

"What do you think it is dear?" she asked, now being perfectly charming.

"I have no idea," replied Savarre, placing his elbow on the table and resting his head on his hand.

"What is disturbing me," admitted Delanna, "is that recent habit of hers to be very quiet for a moment, then burst into giggles and dash off to her desk and scribble something onto a piece of paper, which she puts into a file, and then into a drawer, and locks it tight."

"I haven't noticed that," admitted Savarre.

"But you have noticed that she stands in front of the mirror with a wine bottle on her head?"

"Well dear, it's the mirror."

"Of course," mused Delanna. "The mirror is rather important to you."

"But as for locked drawers," suggested Savarre with a sly grin.

"You can pick the lock?" asked Delanna.

"NO Problem!" propounded Savarre.

"It is Vikii's desk," observed Delanna, she looked down and bit her lower lip.

"Probably trapped with something horrible," admitted Savarre.

"We really shouldn't do it," agreed Delanna.

Savarre was already up and heading for the alcove where Vikii's desk has been placed so she could look out the windows at the forest below.

"After all," he observed. "If she's in trouble or suffering from some magical curse of the mind, we need to know and cure it."

"Oh yes, we must," agreed Delanna.

Savarre looked briefly at the desk and began to examine the drawer which Delanna had seen her putting her little notes into. He smiled a little to himself and pulled out a lock pick and began to fiddle.

"Seems that she didn't think we'd be wanting to break into her drawer and so it's not trapped," he said with a grin.

The locked clicked open.

"No problem!" he cried triumphantly.

Two little girl giggles were suddenly heard.

Del and Savi looked up and carefully around, there, behind the couch, were two little pairs of glimmering deep violet blue eyes and tousled white hair looking at them.

"Mamo's desk," observed one of them, R'seria.

"We nod allowed in dere," added M'randa, the other.

"Mamo be mad if she knew," suggested R'seria.

"An we nod allowed to keep secreds," finished M'randa.

"They're not even six and they already know how to blackmail," observed Savarre with a nervous chuckle.

Delanna looked at the two girls and blushed.

"Now girls, we're just testing the lock," explained Savarre. "It's important to know that it works right or your . . . mamo wouldn't be able to get into her stuff."

"Uh huh?" asked M'randa.

"Mimi? Rhorho?" asked Delanna smiling. "How would you like some strawberry cupcakes?"

"Yeah!" cried the girls in unison and they scurried up to Delanna and gave her hugs, one on each leg.

"And Uncle Savi will close Mamo's drawer while we're gone because we now know it works," she finished, leading the two girls by hand, one on each, out onto the balcony which circled the enclosed sections of the flet and turned towards the kitchen area where Vikii's tea service and tea cakes were kept.

"Okay!" agreed the girls.

Savarre mused at the ease in which little girls can be bought off and returned to the task at hand. Opening the drawer, he paused and frowned.

"Damn you, Vikii," he snapped to no one in particular.

Stretched across the drawer's files was a wide red ribbon, upon which in thick black ink was a message in common. It was placed so that it would take a delicate hand to remove it and replace it with no one being the wiser. That was not what concerned Savarre, it was what was written on it that bothered him.

It read, "Savi, I know you can pick locks, but there's no nasty trap because first it might hurt the twins and second, it would ruin my records. I leave it to your conscious to decide what you'll do next."

Savarre looked at the open drawer before him. He instinctively reached for his carefully brushed and braided hair to scratch his scalp, but caught himself in time.

"I won't fall for your little psychological gambit," he said to the desk. "I won't be swayed by your cloud men's mind capabilities."

Just the same, he felt guilty. He paused and listened. In the kitchen the twins were giggling and chatting to their 'Anadel' over their cupcakes. With any luck, they had already forgotten about the drawer and desk.

He spent a careful moment examining the ribbon's placement among the folders. Then, with a gentle flick of rogue's fingers, the ribbon was flipped back and Savarre began to rummage through the folders in the files. With the exception of a few in front, it was clear that he was in Vikii's spy files. Each person and power had it's own folder He noted first that Delanna had no file, but working his way up, he noted that his name was very prominent upon a single folder.

"Humph!" he muttered. "So she keeps a file on me does she?"

He pulled it out and opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper and upon it, a single notation. It was a colon followed by a small case p.

"Gah!" he shouted and nearly dropped the file when it dawned on him what she had done.

"Are you alright honey?" called Delanna's voice from the kitchen. The twins were suddenly silent.

"Just fine dear!" he called back. "There's a rusted roller on the drawer which I'm fixing and I dropped the screwdriver into the back of it."

"Ok honey," replied Delanna.

He could hear her start into making silly noises which the twins enjoyed hearing and shortly they were back to giggles and chatting.

"Now which file . . ." he said to himself. He began to rummage through the front folders since those seemed to be a collection of loose papers. He quickly found financial notations, a list of names of young men in Beldin who were adventurers of note followed by occasional comments in drow, chief of which was a notation Vharaun Baenrae followed by a big red heart and exclamation point, and then in the very first folder in the drawer, "how ironic" he noted, was a collection of scrap pieces of paper, on which various comments, in Drow, were scribbled.

"This has to be it," he mused to himself. "If Delanna's observations that she's been grabbing scraps of paper and scribbling things down is correct. Any scrap would do and here's my laundry list . . . and Delanna's grocery list . . . and a note to call on Jhourus . . . and a note by Del to shop with Vikii for advice on lace undies of a risqué nature? Hmmmm, I think I like where this is going . . ."

However, the comments he wanted on the front were in Drow. While he couldn't translate them, it was clear that several times she had condensed the comments, interspersed with other notation onto a collection of leaves. The latest was clearly the most extensive, and by the freshness of the blood red ink that Vikii was fond of, probably written in the past tenday.

But it likewise was entirely in Drow.

Savarre suppressed an urge to swear. But he would not be beaten. Walking over to his own chest in the next room, he opened it and pulled out a special ring he kept for such occasions. With a sudden invocation of it's power, and some spare sheets of paper, he now had a perfect copy of Vikii's manuscript. Returning to the file, he replaced the manuscript, returned the ribbon to it's original location, gently closed the drawer, and re-locked it.

Rolling up the manuscript and slipping it into a belt pouch he wore (naturally in perfect coordination with the rest of his outfit) he walked into the kitchen, played briefly with the twins, and fed them even more strawberry cupcake. Even though he walked through the valley of the shadow of Mimi and Rhorho, he would fear no evil, for Delanna was at his side. And the twins were, as usual when Delanna was present, perfect little angels of innocence, and gave 'Unkasavi' more than a few hugs and sloppy crumb filled kisses.

Shortly thereafter, it was nap time for the twins and with them settled down, Delanna and Savarre looked at the manuscript copy he had made.

"Can't make heads nor tails of it," sighed Del. "That wasn't a language they taught us in Evereska."

"I wonder why not," mused Savarre.

"Well, honey, your typical Drow/Moon Elf conversation is pretty much along the lines of "Meet my blade", "Feel my sting", or "Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!"

Savarre had no doubt that was very much the case.

"Then we need a Drow to translate," he mused.

"That's going to be tough . . . who do we know that's around these days?" asked Delanna.

"Sviardian?" asked Saviour.

Del shook her head.

"First of all," she pointed out. "Sviardian is back to breathing threats to Beldin and promising destruction. If we were to meet her now, I suspect we would be having that typical Drow/Moon Elf conversation I alluded to. I doubt she would be willing to come under a flag of truce and translate a document which may very well reveal something Vikii doesn't want her to know. Furthermore, how do we know she wouldn't sabotage the translation so as to suggest that Vikii was a spy for her or something?"

"Well, we know that would be false," argued Savarre.

"But would we necessarily spot any and all of Sviardian's deceptions?" asked Delanna.

Savarre had to agree that such would be a chancy option at best. Suddenly he shouted "No Problem!"

"Savi?" asked Del looking at him with a quizzical look on her face.

"Vharaun," replied Saviour. "He's back in town, and Vikii is Very Interested in him right now, and not in the cloak and dagger way either."

He paused and seemed to reflect a second.

"Unless she's a bit more sexually eccentric than I initially suspected," he finished.

"Now Savi how do you know?"

"I've found a little list," sang Savi "I've found a little list."

"Oh, you did, did you?"

"Yes, every potential bachelor listed and rated and Vharaun was clearly at the top."

"Vikii always was a strange girl," sighed Delanna. "But do you think he'll be discrete?"

"Well think about it, dear," reasoned Savarre. "We're going to come to him and inform him that Vikii is got a big adolescent style crush on him and he's been trying to get up the nerve to ask her out anyway. So that's going to be very good news for him indeed. And accordingly, since he'll want to know more about her, and it could be a love letter To Him she's composing, he'll be willing to translate. And we can be sure he'll be discrete since we may need (0r so we'll hint) his services again for translation. And he wouldn't want word of his little deed to get out now would he?"

"Savi?" asked Delith, her worry lines forming in the usual spots on her forehead, "Are we proposing to threaten sabotage to the first love affair that Vikii's had a chance at for several years."

"If we don't get caught," assured Saviour, "there'll be no harm done."

"Well," sighed Delanna. "Vikii's my friend and she loves me as a sister dearly. And she never had a sister before this that she did love . . . I can't 'just' do it."

Savarre looked at his beloved and waited.

"So you do it when I'm not looking," she concluded.

Vharaun, as Savarre had predicted, was most cooperative. And he took the document in hand with a promise to have a full and complete translation within a day. Savarre and Delanna waited at the Bar, in one of the private bedrooms for the next day. And as the sun set that afternoon, for fall had arrived and the days were getting rapidly shorter, Vharaun came back with a big grin on his face. And in his right hand he held a new set of manuscript parchments. It seemed that he had found this assignment amusing.

He was dressed in a style similar to Savarre, but his colors were more a blue and gray. His hair, silvery to the point of a blue tint, was likewise braided in a style like Savarre's. Savarre naturally concluded he must be a man of fashion and taste and decided that Vikii was only correct to have such an attraction to him.

He sat down and looked at Delanna.

"Do you read dramatically?" he asked her.

"How do you mean?" she asked.

"Well," explained Vharaun with a twinkle in his eye. "It seems to have been meant to be read or memorized and recited for the upcoming Heart of Hanali festival. Vikii has apparently, a flair for drama and acting."

Delanna, curious, took the manuscript and began to read it out loud.

And it went like this . . .

_I'm so glad to be here tonight. I've really been looking forward to it. I dressed up as nice as I could and when Del saw me she said, "Goodness Vikii, what a lovely dress!" And I love her deeply, so I can't lie to her and was forced to reply, "Darling? Goodness had nothing to do with it!"_

_Now you may have heard that I'm a drow, and I'm from Ched Nassad. It's true. And like all drow girls from there I'm descended from a very long line . . . my mother listened to. Now the Underdark has it's problems, but it's not always bad. I had a lot of girlfriends growing up in the Ched Nassad. So many that I'd bet that if you laid them all end to end . . . I shouldn't be at all surprised. And I had a lot of boyfriends to. I really excel at having a lot of boyfriends and my girlfriends here in Beldin ask me all sorts of questions about having boyfriends and so I have this advice._

_First, it's not the men in your life. It's the life in your men. Second, sometimes he's hidden a dagger there. Other times, he's really happy to see you. Third, always keep a boyfriend for a rainy day . . . and another when it doesn't rain. Fourth, you have ten men waiting at the door? Be sure to send one home first so you don't get tired. Fifth, all discarded boyfriends need a second chance . . . with someone else. Sixth, if you find a guy who doesn't know how to kiss? Goodness girl, take the time to teach him! Seventh, when a woman goes wrong . . . the men go right after them. Eighth, be a one man woman . . . that is, one man at a time. Ninth? Give a man a free hand and he'll run it all over you. Tenth, only surround yourself with 'yes' men. Who needs 'no' men? Eleventh? The best way to hold a man is in your arms. And finally . . . A good man is very hard to find . . . Or is it a hard man is very good to find?_

_Yes I've learned a few things. You see, a girl who knows the ropes is less likely to get tied up. Of course I make exceptions for leather._

_I mean really, what's a girl like me doing in a nice place like this? It's not that I don't wake up every morning in Beldin with the resolution to be as good, clean, white, and pure as the snow. Problem is I keep drifting. It's not that I don't believe in loving my neighbor. It's just that if he happens to be tall, debonair, and devastating, it's so much easier. I'm the sort of girl who lost her reputation . . . and never missed it. I mean, the moment I was able to take advantage of that lost reputation I jumped at the opportunity. And he was most accommodating too. Seriously, too much of a good thing? . . . is wonderful._

_Yes, I'll try anything once. Twice if I like it. And three times to make sure._

_It's not that I don't have the will power. I've got lots of that. It' just that I don't have the won't power. I can resist just about everything I encounter . . . except temptation. And moral dilemmas? Gracious! When given the choice between two evils? . . . I always pick the one I haven't tried yet. I know they say that to err is human . . . but it feels divine. And so I have climbed the ladder of success . . . wrong by wrong. The problem isn't that when I'm good I'm very good. The problem is that when I'm bad I'm even better._

_So there I am . . . but don't you worry too much. I do try to find the good in everyone I meet so if you happen to have nothing to do, and a lot of time to do it in, come see me sometime._

_(Put Wine Bottle On Head)_

_The drinks are on me!_


	14. Chapter 14 - Delanna's Vengence

**The player who was playing Delanna made a special request of Vikii during one session. Then the player explained it OC. I agreed and composed the story accordingly. So this story is not only inspired by a RP incident, it directly created a new RP incident shortly thereafter on the server.**

* * *

"Oh mother I don't think this will work!" moaned S'nae. She was standing in front of the mirror, seven months pregnant, and her piper's uniform would simply not fit.

"Just be patient!" snapped Vikii.

"You just had to get into bed with him didn't you?" suggested M'randa who was leaning against the wall watching her mother try to cut and trim and pin the Piper's uniform around the bulging belly which was S'nae. "You could have waited a few more years and you would not have had this issue."

"What do you mean not had this issue?" retorted S'nae. "I'm going to be capable of having his children his entire life thanks to our lifespans."

"Yes," replied M'randa. "But he, being riven, would have been to old to care any more." She sniggered.

"You're just jealous," concluded S'nae. "I'm the first daughter to have a child. My breasts are now fully mature and larger than yours. You're still stuck with those little itty bitty babies on your chest."

"Yes, but when they mature, they will nurse Jalil's, not your little soon to be born Jaluk."

"Bitch," muttered S'nae.

"You're too old to be smacked on the mouth," grumbled Vikii. "The both of you."

She continued to cut and pin S'nae's piper's uniform.

"Mamo are you sure this will . . . ?"

"Yes!"

Melody who had been watching this entire exchange put her own two cents in.

"Really Sisi, it's obvious your mother knows what she's doing. Trust her judgement. I mean . . . She's always so beautiful! I wish she would dress me for when I ever get a date." Melody sighed.

"Just because I could dress you nicely," replied Vikii looking at Melody and smiling for the first time in an hour. "That would not mean he would appreciate it."

"Oh yeah," giggled S'nae. "Like the time when . . ."

* * *

It was another summer evening in the Tree house and the breezes rustled the leaves which made up the canopy of the main area of the flet. Upon a couch Savarre sat with his newest pet, a chicken, cooing to it and promising it that he would take it on an adventure soon. Near him, Vharaun stood overlooking the balcony practicing his sorcerous arts. Perfecting the fire ball, he had been amusing the twins with his pyrotechnic displays of fire and explosions while they jumped and cheered with cries of "Do it again, Favi!"

And in Delanna's bedroom, Vikii perfected a new outfit for her. It was almost like the one she would be wearing tonight. Delanna had insisted it should look Druidish so while Vikii's outfit was a deep black with red metallic trim along the edges of the jacket, Delanna's colors were a deep green and dark brown. Together the girls spent a few moments preparing in front of the mirror.

"Do you think he will notice?" asked Delanna. She looked at herself in the mirror.

The outfit was stunning to say the least, if not outright provocative. Green velvet pants went from just below her navel to a pair of small delicate shoes. Completely formfitting, it was topped off by an outer thong of shimmering brown outlining every single curve from her hips to her ankles. Vikii's was similar, but it didn't have a thong. Rather a tight sewing had pulled the outfit in at the crotch to give it the appearance of being nearly painted on. Above, both girls had a calimshan cut vest, open wide at the front, barely covering the breasts, and held in place by a pair of thin chains. Both vests had a pair of billowing sleeves which ran to the wrist and were buttoned by little cufflinks of mithril and gold. From the throat to a couple of inches below the naval, there was an unrestricted view of both girl's fronts, one in deep ebony, and the other a light tan.

"If he doesn't," mused Vikii, "then he's got one serious chicken problem." She paused to adjust the hem of her black calf boots. She paused . . .

Delanna looked at herself, blushed for a moment then turned to look at Vikii. "Nigh cousin," she asked. "I've never seen you in anything like this either. Why all of a sudden, no long sleeved formal and skirts? Why are you now all in form fitting, body revealing outfitting."

"I've got someone to show off too," replied Vikii with a smile. "And I haven't had such an appreciative audience in all my life."

The two paused to giggle.

"Now," continued Vikii. "Let's see that little hip slink I've been training you to do." She stepped back and looked at Delanna.

Delanna tried two steps and burst into giggles.

"Try again," suggested Vikii patiently.

Delanna tried another step swinging her hip out and then lost it as she giggled, blushed, dipped her body, and covered her face in her hands. "I just can't DO that," she squeezed out between titters.

Vikii sighed. "You're too dignified, dear," she said with her fisted hands on her hips. "Well then, let's 'pow' the boys."

Vikii slinked and Delanna glided into the main living part of the flet. Vharaun's eyes widened at Vikii's greeting and took a deep breath.

"Hi darling," cooed Vikii. She had her arms back behind her, her shoulders thrown back, and when she took a deep breath, the chains holding the vest in front strained with the tension.

"That is utterly . . ." gasped Vharaun.

Vikii smiled threw her arms around her husband and nibbled on his neck before she kissed him.

"Hello Savi," said Delanna trying to imitate Vikii's posture just the second before.

"Hi," replied Savarre. He looked up.

"Saucy outfit, Vikii," he offered. He looked at Delanna.

Delanna smiled.

"Nice hair, Delanna," he offered. He then returned his gaze to his chicken.

Delanna's features fell several stories screaming all the way before coming to a hard smack and crunch upon the stone pavement beneath. She fiddled with her ring in front and sighed. Had Vharaun noticed, between the kisses he was receiving, Vikii was likewise playing with a small ring on her left pinkie finger as well.

"He didn't notice again!" wailed Delanna's thought.

"Yes," answered Vikii's thought.

"I'm tired of this," continued Delanna thinking to Vikii. She walked over to the couch, crossed her arms, and sat down pouting. "I've tried and tried and tried. We've designed dresses together. He always says you're dressed nice, but never me! And tonight we're practically wearing the same thing! Vikii, I'm going to get even with him. I'm tired of this fop thinking I can't dress nicely. He compliments you all the time, and yet when you put something on me that he likes on you, he STILL doesn't notice."

"Well dear," mused Vikii between kisses. "What do you propose."

"Vikii," continued Delith's thoughts. "I want . . . the twins."

Had the girls been performing this scene in a play, the music in the orchestra pit would have taken a very sinister tone in a minor key.

Vrinn was still kissing Vikii and Savarre was still petting his chicken - whom was a cursed human who's revelations as to his real heritage would shortly break Savarre's heart. But for the moment, Bartok, the master mage and assassin, was being fed and feted and he felt no real need to reveal the truth to Savarre just yet. That would come later, after Bobo had discovered there was something small, fowl, and nicely edible in the tree house. From all outward appearances, it looked like two elves and two drow being domestic and quiet. No real indication of the rapidity of the girl's thoughts was shown. So five minutes later, when Vikii proposed that Delanna help her with a tea, Vharaun merely sighed and returned to playing with the twins while Savarre chuckled and beamed as he threw bread crumbs to Bartok, the world's most powerful chicken.

Making tea the proper way takes a while. Water has to be boiled, creme put into a small pitcher, honey into a small pot, and you can't have a proper tea without cakes or biscuits. So shortly afterwards, his spell energies exhausted, Vharaun informed the twins that the game was over and in spite of their complaints, he walked over to the couch and stretched himself out on it.

"I can't believe how lovely a matron mother I've got," he mused.

"I can't believe how lovely a chicken I've got," replied Savarre.

Bartok clucked in an amused and slightly sinister fashion. Then he decided he had best get out of the reach of the twins, who were looking at him rather intently. Leaping into Savarre's lap, much the delight of Savarre, he settled down.

The twins approached, and Savarre gave them a look which suggested he could be just as vicious as Vikii when it came to punishments.

"Led's ged chickee lader," suggested M'randa to R'seria quietly.

"Ok," agreed R'seria.

The twins retreated to plot.

"No one will hurt you my chicken," whispered Savarre to Bartok. "I will protect you with my life."

"This is beginning to sound indecent," thought Bartok to himself. He ruffled his feathers.

Vikii came back out with a tray filled with cups, saucers, a tea pot, strainers, and jug of hot water. Delanna came out with a tray laden with honey cakes, strawberry cakes, cinnamon buns, and peach tarts.

"Tea time," sang Vikii.

"Peach tarts!" cried Savarre. He reached for one.

Delanna batted his hand nervously.

"Not that one," said Vikii giggling. "The one which has the S carved into it. See?"

"S?" asked Savarre. He looked. Sure enough, there were two tarts which had an D heart S carved into the top crust as there were two which had a V heart V carved into them.

"You are so," chuckled Vharaun looking at Vikii. He took one of the V tarts.

"We definitely have it made," agreed Savarre. "A lovely feathered chicken, and a pretty Delanna with flawless skin and perfect hair, and you with Vikii, the sauciest Priestess in all of the Karen."

"Do you think with all his compliments on my skin and hair, and none on my clothes, no matter how hard I try, he's trying to tell me he prefers me naked?" mused Delanna's thought to Vikii.

"Could be," Vikii's thoughts flashed back. "Males are strange that way. We work our little hinies off to dress pretty for them and they prefer we not even dress."

Delanna set her tea and cinnamon bun down and walked away to get a basket of garments and dyes.

"Working on your wardrobe?" asked Vikii to Delanna.

"Yes," she answered.

"Mimi? Rhorho?" she called. "Come help Anadel!"

Vikii served Savarre his tea, and then a cup to Vharaun.

Savarre sat and ate his tarts and sipped his tea. Vikii stood behind him and looked down at him. There was a narrowing of her eyes and thin slightly cruel and smug smile upon her features. As Vharaun looked up at her, his eyes widened. As he opened his mouth to speak, Vikii knowing his thoughts, put her finger to her mouth and pantomimed a hush. Vharaun remained amazed and unsettled, but likewise quiet. He, like all drow, knew that look, the look of a Matron Mother who had just struck a fatal blow. But for the life of him, the idea that Vikii had just done something horrible to Savarre remained entirely alien.

Vikii's twins scurried over to 'Anadel'.

"Girls?" asked Delanna. "How would you like to help me dye these clothes, fuscia?"

"How do you dye?" asked R'seria.

"You ged bid by monsder," answered M'randa. "Dummy!"

R'seria stuck her tongue out at M'randa who replied with a tongue and raspberry.

"Girls?" suggested Delith.

The twins immediately became calm and placid and looked up at their Anadal as if to thank her once again for saving them from being anything other than perfect angels of childhood innocence.

Vikii observed this all with frank amazement and wonder.

Savarre sat back in the couch and closed his eyes in relaxation.

"Well girls," continued Delanna. "You dye clothing like this . . ." With skill and patience, she began to explain the process to the girls, showing them each step while they soaked up the education like a sponge, having no idea that they were learning a useful skill in the midst of their fun with Anadel.

Vikii, with her tea, sat down next to Vharaun. Savarre worked his way further into the couch.

"Most excellent tea and tarts," he said with a sigh.

"Special recipe," replied Vikii.

Delanna smiled to herself.

Vharaun finished his tarts, somewhat nervously and looked at Vikii. She looked at him, her eyes filled with love and affection and he relaxed. For some reasons or other, that always calmed him. He finished his tea and Vikii snuggled up closer to him and clasped his hand, holding it in her lap.

Meanwhile the twins were now putting bits of cloth into bowls of dye, while taking dye soaked sponges and 'painting' bits of leather and armor. Delanna in particular seemed anxious that the girls master the dying of leather laces. They did that over and over again, always in fuscia.

Vikii watched the process. Vharaun settled down with Vikii's head on his shoulder, and Savarre yawned once and snuggled even more deeply into the couch. Vrinn felt content. The tea was warm, the cakes were sweet, he had a beautiful woman on his shoulder . . . who had just commenced nibbling at his neck . . . and the girls were being perfectly behaved. Life was good.

Vikii was kissing his neck now . . . he had a suspicion where this was going to end.

"Darling," she whispered. "I love you desperately."

"I'm a taken man, Vikii," replied Savarre sleepily.

"NOT YOU!"

Vikii leaned over Vharaun's lap, giving him perfect view of how her pants outlined the curves of her backside and thighs, while she smacked Savarre on the head with her open palm. Bartok took off and flew to a nearby roost on top of a branch. Vharaun took advantage of the fact that all eyes were upon Savarre's hair being batted to steal a surreptitious pat himself.

"Beast!" snapped Vikii.

"Not the hair!" cried Savarre between yawns.

"Yes, Vikii," replied Delanna quietly and with a slight mischievous smile. "Not his hair. You Know How Much He Values His Hair."

Vikii paused, still leaning across Vharaun's lap and looked at Delanna. "Yes," she agreed. "It would be tragic if something were to happen to his hair."

"Yes," mused Savarre, his eyes closed and his yawns frequent. "So . . . tragi . . . c." He fell asleep.

Vikii sat up, straddled Vharaun's lap and looked into his eyes. Vharaun noticed that her gaze was deep, open, wide, dark, and furnished with bedroom furniture.

"Life is definitely good!" he though to himself. "Well dear," he sighed. "I think I'm going to get out of this adventure gear and into something a bit more loose, flowing, and cool."

"Let me help you," she responded with a deep and rich purr in her voice.

The two departed, while Delanna watched them leave hand in hand.

Savarre was sound asleep, a smile on his face. "My chicken," he said in his sleep.

The twins were busy dying everything they could get their hands on, and Delanna noticed they were just about out of stuff they could get their hands on. Savarre was in their full view.

"Well, darlings," whispered Delanna to M'randa and R'seria. "Anadel is going to take a walk through the forest. You'll finish your job won't you?"

Bartock, from his rafter, decided he needed a higher perch.

"Uh huh?" assured the twins.

Delanna got up and started to walk out.

"Isn't Savi's hair pretty?" she mused out loud to herself. She looked back at the twins. They looked at her wide eyed, their white silvery hair tousled and curly. She departed.

The twins quickly finished dying the leather laces. A great pile of them, now all fuscia, were upon the floor.

"Mamo make noise again with Favi," observed R'seria, listening to muffled noises coming from the bedroom. Evidently Vikii was very much enjoying herself.

"Anadel says dad's because 'cause Mamo love Favi," explained M'randa.

"Mamo loves us and she dond make noise," replied R'seria.

"Cept when she yells ad us," sighed M'randa. "And when id's always your fauld doo."

"Is nod," answered Rhorho.

"Is doo," replied Mimi.

"Is nod!"

"Is doo!"

"Come to me my chicken, adventure!" snored Savarre.

The twins suddenly remembered Savarre.

"Noding do dye no more," sighed Rhorho.

"Cepd Unkasavi," agreed M'randa.

"Unkasavi dickle us dis morning," observed Rhorho.

"This should be amusing to watch," thought Bartok up in the tree. "If I can just be quiet so they won't notice me, I'll have quite an entertaining upcoming few minutes.

Below, the shadows of advancing drowling dye stained hands, sponges, and bowls of fuscia dye grew distinct and larger upon Savarre's face.

An hour later (and after two more periods in which the cries of "Goddess! Yes! Darling! My Vharaun!" had been heard from her door muffled voice) Vikii walked out into the living area in her white spider silk gown and very relaxed features upon her face. The twins were playing with the leather laces, having figured out how to make hangman's nooses with them, and happily hanging their dolls.

They looked up at their mother and blushed. She looked at Savarre and smiled.

"Come to your bedroom Mimirhorho," she said. "Now!"

Cringing, the twins obeyed. Placed in front, they were marched to their bedroom and made to stand in front of Vikii as she stood over them imperiously. Reaching from a high shelf, she took down a well used and worn cat-o-nine tails.

"You dyed Savarre's hair didn't you?" she said accusingly.

The twins were silent for a moment.

"Id was all Rhorho's fauld!" sniffled M'randa.

"Was nod!" cried Rhorho.

"Silence!" snapped Vikii.

The girls remained shivering and sniffling.

"No blood was drawn," pronounced Vikii. "So there will be no flogging."

The twins waited, still trembling.

"But tomorrow?" announced Vikii. "You will get none of Anadel's special asparagus casserole." She turned, put the cat-o-nine tails back on the shelf, closed the door, and walked down the hall.

The twins looked at each other baffled while they got ready for bed.

"I don like Anadel's spergus," said Rhorho.

"I don eider," agreed M'randa.

"Mamo make us ead id every dime Anadel serve id," continued Rhorho.

"And whip us if we dond," agreed Mimi.

"Why Mamo do dad?" asked Rhorho.

"Mamo always silly afder making noise wid Favi," suggested Mimi.

Rhorho likewise agreed that this was the only logical explanation.

Clutching their mostly mangled spider plush fuzzy toys, the two twins fell asleep in their beds.

Delanna returned, saw the damage, and smiled to herself. "Vengeance is sweet," she mused. She retired to her bedroom after dousing the lights.

Eventually, Savarre woke up in a darkened tree house. The moon had set and the forest was almost as dark as the inside of a cave. "How odd," he thought. "And I must have sweated all the tea out, my scalp feels damp." He felt his way to the bedroom, undressed, and slipped into bed. It wasn't until next morning that he saw himself in the mirror.

It is said that the wailing cry of despair could be heard to the walls of Beldin, twenty miles distant.


	15. Chapter 15 - Matron Mother For A Day

**This story, which marks the end of my Silvered Dancer series, required an extensive rewrite due to that charming habit of players playing fast and loose with Forgotten Realms Lore. While Vikii ended up as Seneschal in a kingdom, and eventually Regent literally ruling it for a few days before she was able to restore the proper succession, it was in an Arthurian colored kingdom which had absolutely nothing to do with the Sword Coast, let alone Faerûn. But fortunately I was able to set up my own server at the end of my online reveres and thus had the justification needed to use that server to base all these stories. That was my town of Beldin, on a river valley west of Luskin and just south of Icewind Dale.**

**That was the nice thing about the Forgotten Realms, you could throw your own stuff in provided of course you stuck with the lore. In my writings Beldin has popped up in various places, both real (Michigan and Wales) and fantasy (AOL's Gemstone), so this wasn't the first time I had put Beldin in a fantasy setting. But it fit the Forgotten Realms easily since Beldin has always had a mystical quality to it, always by the water and often enshrouded in fogs and gentle rains or snowfalls in a very temperate climate, sort of like the town my dad grew up in, and like the town I spent my summers in when I was a kid. There is even a slight hint of it in my Mass Effect Fan Fic, Shining Bright, though I don't name it Beldin.**

**The story was originally set in a Kingdom called Benwick on the server called Aerlith and Mendel was Merlin, Avery was Galahad, and Aelfgive was X'tacy. All were players. And this story, like the rest I've included in this series, is based on a RP arc which was followed by Vikii, her consort, and the other players with a GM participating over the course of a few weeks. Vikii's consort wasn't name Vharaun, for Vharaun is a composite of two consorts which Vikii had. Like other characters with longevity, Vikii outlasted most of her friends on the servers. Savoire Faire (who is the basis for Savarre) and Delith (who is the basis for Delanna) were the longest and most dependable. But as both were GM's at the end, they faded into the background as well. You can not play and GM at the same time.**

**Gm's liked story arcs where Vikii was a participating character because they knew I would find a solution to the problem and resolve the arc. Aerlith was notorious for story arcs remaining unresolved and on occasion the Master DM (Mistress Ka Ta) would have to directly intervene since someone's character had been left dead for (real time) days at a time because the players would not find a solution to the problems presented, wrapped up in self-absorbed issues. Goudie for example, was deliberately created by myself as a contrast to the angst ridden soon to fall Paladins which infested the server and were famous for being mostly useless save for someone to brood with. Likewise Lolth was the perennial bad goddess who was plaguing the server in spite of the fact that while the drow were a small, though persistent character base for the players, in the Forgotten Realms, Lolth has little interest in the surface. She has been replaced by Besheba. Since Tymora was the patron Goddess of Beldin on the server, Besheba her sister, became one of the trouble making deities.**

* * *

The spells had been cast and the stars consulted. The temperature and physic of S'nae was likewise fully examined and Vikii made the diagnosis, S'nae's delivery was to be within thirty six hours. Accordingly a room in the townhouse was prepared for the event. There were several chairs which were arranged around a central couch which was partitioned so that the back part could be pulled away and two posts with stirrups could be moved into position when necessary. Likewise, a firm stool for seating between the stirrups was also present and on rollers. Along the sides were several tables with various burners and serving bowls for fingers foods since there would be little cooking during the final hours. There was one part of the room curtained off with a holed bench and chamber pots and finally, there were various waterproof tubs for the washing of linens and clothing. Absorbing towels and sponge mops were also stacked in a small tall cabinet. Delivery was a messy and long business.

Her sisters were there, Melody was shortly to arrive, and Goudie had already arrived so as to be with her throughout the entire labor. Vikii, upon seeing Goudie, seemed to soften her features towards him. S'nae noted it and began to hope that maybe, just maybe, Melody's prediction that her mother would accept Goudie as her 'favored consort' once the child, even though it was just a boy, was born. M'randa was there, imperious as usual. R'seria was busy arranging things in the room, making sure everything was accessible for Aunt Delanna who would be midwifing. Vikii had never learned how to midwife and Delanna, who had delivered the twins, and then every child since save the triplets was more than willing to deliver her new 'grand nephew'. Savarre was busy with making sure he was dressed for the occasion. But likewise he was keeping M'thana amused by playing games with her. She was old enough now that he could be fairly certain that she would not 'attack' his hair if he turned his back on her. Chess'rina was quietly testing out magical effects to see if there could be anything that might help with the birthing process, but was being somewhat frustrated in that her natural magical aptitude seemed to have a mind of it's own.

"Chichi?" suggested Delanna. "I don't think you really have the talent for medical magic."

"I won't know for sure until I've tried all possibilities," argued Chess'rina.

"Chichi? Honey?" continued Del. "I've been a druid now for over 125 years. I know. You don't have that talent. You can do things that the rest of us can only dream of doing, but you can't help your sister give birth. Be happy with your ability to innovate and improvise as a sorcerer. I delivered you, I'll be delivering your new nephew too."

Chess'rina sighed, leaned against the wall, and folded her arms under her chest.

"UNKASAVI!" cried M'thana in the next room.

"It's a perfectly legal play in the Pathfinder game," replied Savarre's voice.

"Why don't you help your sister play with Savarre?" suggested Delanna.

"She thinks I don't need her help," grumbled Chess'rina.

"HI ALL!" sang Melody as she walked into the room. "So is Sisi screaming and pulling Goudie's hair yet?"

S'nae rolled her eyes.

"I'd never do that to Goudie," she objected. She was happily leaning on his shoulders on the couch the two of them were seated upon. He had his arm around her. Melody couldn't help but giggle at the sight. There was S'nae, a perfectly normal drow girl at four foot eight being almost entirely engulfed by Goudie's six foot four human features.

"You were not there when Vikii gave birth to the twins," recalled Delanna. "Savi lost more than a little hair . . . and blood."

"I don't remember that part of it," objected Vikii.

"You don't remember most of the labor dear," answered Delanna. "That's a natural way you cope with the pain."

"Cope with the pain?" queried S'nae with just a slight tremor in her voice.

"Why would Savarre be the same room with Vikii when she was giving birth?" asked Melody. "After all, this is a girl thing right?"

"My first consort had more important things to do than be there for the birth," sighed Vikii. "Unlike Vharaun."

"He always comes with me," answered Delanna. "But yes Melody, this is a girl thing. Outside of Goudie, Savarre will be in the next room, providing amusement for you all when you can't stand it in here."

"I can't imagine not missing a moment of this," argued Melody. "She's my best friend."

"It will be probably 24 hours of labor," suggested Delanna. "This is her first child."

"24 hours?" groaned S'nae. "I don't like doing something that feels good for 24 hours!"

"It's just the last few hours that it hurts hun," continued Delanna. "You probably will sleep through some of it at the start."

Vikii leaned back on the chair she was seated upon.

"I remain amazed at my life," she mused. "Growing up in the Underdark, seeing my city Ched Nassad fall into the pits as the spiderwebs that held it aloft burned, crawling up the strands to the top, the dream quest of Eilistraee which led me to the Fearthegn's barn, that brief time in that farm house, then the room at the Bar, then the tree-house, then the gypsy wagon, then the royal castle apartments, and now here. I've had love and hate, gain and loss, and now? I'm about to see my sixth daughter give birth to her first child."

"You could have been such a power in the court when you were living there," sighed Delanna. "You could have done so much good for the Aelfheims. So why did you give that up?"

"I knew what I would become with that power," sighed Vikii. "So when it was thrust upon me, I knew what I would have to do."

* * *

The sun had risen several hours before and was streaming into the southern exposure windows of the grand bedroom that Vikii was sleeping in. The light hit her face and she grimaced and scrunched up into the bed. But the heat was there, and the light woke her up. She squinted at the brightness of the sun. It's light seemed to almost burn her eyes and she despised it. She hated waking up to the brightness. But there was nothing for it. She was in the Castle now, seneschal for King Avery and his new wife, Aelfgive a charming woman from the north of the Karen. Possessed of blond hair and slightly pointed ears and big emerald green eyes, she had just enough elven blood in her past to merit her worth to the throne of Beldin. For the struggle that each king of Beldin had was the ancient requirement that the wife be either elven or part elven in her ancestry. Vikii had found her for Avery and after her initial suspicions (a drow priestess offering to make her queen of Beldin and all the Karen River Valley? Riiiiiiiiiiiiight) she agreed to a meeting. Avery found her enchanting from the start and she found him noble and handsome. They quickly found mutual interests, mutual feelings, and the marriage looked to be a good match. And in return, Avery made her Seneschal which meant she now managed the castle and saw to it that the privies were cleaned, the pantry stocked, the wine cellar full, and the silverware polished. Of course she had servants to do that but even so, she loved the work since she could see the fruits of her labor every time she walked down a new freshly swept hallway. It was just enough power to make her feel like a real Matron Mother, but not enough to enable her to do something horrible to someone should she lose her patience. She felt the arrangement safe and secure. No one dared molest her or her three daughters in Beldin these days.

The bed was large and fluffy and soft in it's goose feather stuffed vastness. The room was spacious and the stonework was not only embellished but generously covered in large carpets which added to the porphyry marbles which made up the floors. But the brightness reminded Vikii that she was no longer living in the gypsy wagon, just under the tree-house of Savarre and Delanna. No longer could she hear the rustle of leaves above her. No longer was the creaking of the heartwood as the tree swayed a gentle reminder that she was safe and secure with her favored consort, daughters, and friends, under a green leafy roof. There had been other changes as well. No longer did the twins sleep with her in her bed. They had their own room with S'nae. In the bed next to her now was Vharaun. Her 'favored consort' a strong drow man, fully capable of fighting and riding a horse. His skill had led him to be invited into the Fearthegn Riders, that grand cavalry regiment which only took adventurers. It's not that he couldn't do magic, like most drow males. He could. Furthermore he had learned to transcend the ancient limitations of armor. His favored tactic was to ride by on his light fast horse and unleash a flurry of magic missiles into a line of enemy. A drow was a frightening enough thing for the surface peoples, but one on horseback?

Then she remembered.

Yesterday had been the wedding. That wonderful royal wedding with Aelfgive coming down the aisle dressed in forest green with Avery standing so firm and tall in his resplendent golden armor and golden hair. The goddess Tymora herself came down and performed the ceremony, albeit a bit whimsically given her personality as the Goddess of Good Luck. Mendel Greenwood, the king's cousin, had been curiously absent. As the crown's magician, he had been expected to be there to provide any wards to protect the couple during those very crucial public moments. Given the scatter brained qualities of Mendels' mind, it came as no surprise to Vikii, or Vharaun, or their dearest friends Savarre, and Delanna. Just the same, Savarre and Vharaun made a bet as to who would worry about the potential for trouble more, Vikii, or Delanna. Savarre won, as expected, for no one could worry like Delanna.

And then was the reception and public banquette. And then Vikii and her two daughters danced for the newlyweds. It was of course a very beautiful dance for no one could dance like Vikii, her whole life centered around that expression. But unlike nearly every other performance, she was dressed. Having learned over the years that surface folk got a bit edgy, especially the women folk, when someone as stunningly beautiful (At least according to Vikii's assessment of her charms) as she, was naked in the presence of a lot of married men, the women invariably got upset, jealous, and more than one of them would commence to scream and throw things. So Vikii had worn a very billowy pair of pantaloons which went from her waist to ankles and were loose and light enough to be no hinderance to her movements. She wore an equally billowy shirt on top. Both articles were a mixture of very thin silver wire and spider silk thread and so she slightly glimmered in the dim light of the late fall evening.

And then Besheba had shown up.

The twin sister of Tymora, Besheba was the Goddess of Bad Luck and if Tymora was to pop in, it was almost a sure thing that Besheba was just around the corner waiting to 'balance things'. She too had a present for the newlywed couple, a Deck of Many Things.

"Don't touch it!" cried Vikii.  
"Don't touch it!" advised Vharaun.  
"Don't touch it!" shouted Delanna.  
"Don't touch it!" suggested Savarre.

It was almost four part harmony.

Avery and Aelfgive both looked at the foursome, and the other friends and family who were likewise vigorously shaking their heads in the negative fashion, and each pulled cards.

Back at the present, Vikii, recalling this act of sublime and supreme stupidity, put her head back under the covers and refused to come out for a moment. Instead, she huddled next to her consort, Vharaun, and noted his measured breathing, and firm and soft muscles upon his arms and chest.

Avery had vanished, to a spot which only the gods knew. And Aelfgive? She was in bed with a wasting consumption.

"Bad luck there!" laughed Beshaba who then vanished.

The present again. Still buried under the blankets so she didn't have to face the world. Vikii could smell her consort and feel the texture of his spider silk pajamas. She never wore a thing to bed, and he always dressed in spider silk. But for some reason other, Vikii could guess quite a number of them, he didn't object to her dress standards in the bedroom. There was something simply wonderful about waking up to a consort each morning, one who you only got to know better and better as the months and years went by. One who remained faithful and loyal and whom you could trust with your life. One who appreciated your obviously attractive physique and said all the right things about it, making you feel like you were the matron you deserved. It was so secure, so comforting, and he was so handsome, strong, and loving and . . . well there's only so much a girl can stand before she has to do something about it. Yes, he was still asleep, but that only made it . . . a challenge.

Vharaun was dreaming of a chase. He was charging down a deep tunnel which was filled with the glowing faezres of the underdark. Before him were the minions, skeletal undead of Kiranshallee whom he would hack down and press forward. They fell before his blade, they crumpled into ash before his streams of flame, and then he was face to face with the goddess of the undead herself. Kiranshallee was dressed in a silvered chain mail and wielded a mace and she attacked. It was a horrible struggle and then he grabbed her and slammed her against the walls of the cave. They rolled and fought and she bit and screamed and then suddenly she smiled, her armor was just falling off of her, her body was looking really good, and she was pressing herself against him and . . . What the . . Oh this is getting really . . .umm . . . Am I being raped? No, you can't rape the willing but . . .

He woke up to find a very aroused and passionate Vikii and realized that not only had he be dreaming of a beautiful woman coming on to him, there was one actually making the dream come true. He took a second to reflect on this.

"Large bed, silk sheets and blankets, great room, well decorated many roomed apartment, title of nobility, security, and waking up to a very beautiful young girl trying to making love to me," he mused in his mind. "I can't think of it getting any better without it becoming redundant."

What happened next is pretty standard fare and needs not be elaborated upon since the reader's imagination is more than sufficient for the task. But a half an hour later, he was just looking at her deep ultra-violet eyes, open and utterly trusting. He had never seen a drow woman so completely at ease in his presence. It was the most mesmerizing quality of her.

"So," he said with a bit of a grin. "Is matron mother D'Vreeze done with her consort for the morning?"

She was back under the blankets.

"I'm not coming out until it goes away," she replied.

This was utterly stunning. In all his experience being a drow male in the underdark, he had never seen a female behave in such a fashion given what had happened the evening before.

Avery was gone, Aelfgive was being carried to her chambers and Punter, the castle butler had come up to Vikii and informed her that according to the ancient laws of succession, as Seneschal, she was third in line should the king and queen be indisposed and there be no heir of sufficient age. She was now, for all intents and purposes, ruler of the entire kingdom. The look on her face had been the most intriguing. Shock, horror, desire, and cruel lust seemed to play across the features in the flash of a few seconds. He had, thinking swiftly, suggested they retired and she had agreed.

He felt her once again snuggle up to him. He tried to gently lift the blankets up but she held on to them firmly. Even so, things began to get warm given the mutual body heat under all that silken covering. He became aware that she was rubbing her leg across him gently, sensually. Her hand started to stroke his chest, and there were her teeth, nibbling on the base of his neck, working their way up to his mouth, her eyes closed, her mouth open for a passionate kiss.

"I am going to have to learn how to duplicate this process," he thought before he began his own participation in the second session of the morning. "Okay, you lay here, call her a sweet matron mother, that scares her so she hides and cuddles up next to you which makes her feel secure and once she's feeling secure she gets turned on so . . ."

There were too many stimulants his body was processing for him to think further on the matter for at least twenty minutes. Then she was mmming next to him, her long perfumed hair covering the both of them but at least the covers were off and he was cooling down. He looked down at her figure, lean and trim and well toned from the dancing regimen which required constant physical activity to keep the body in a perfect state of cooperation with the will's sense of rhythm. The only flaw in her features was that her hips were too narrow. But that was because she was only 52. Her hips would fill out soon enough over the next few decades.

"Now," he began.

The bedroom door flew open and twins came dashing in for their morning "Flying Leap upon Mamo's and Favi's Bed for Bounce Time" game. He was able to yank a sheet back on so that the twins would not be getting too detailed a lesson in male anatomy for the morning and just in the nick of time for M'randa was now on his chest and jumping with R'seria struggling to supplant her. Behind them, wailing "me too me too" was S'nae, now six years of age. While she was mostly potty trained, she still wore a diaper before she was put to bed and it was sort of hanging on her still. They of course remained oblivious to Vikii's nudity while she leaned on her arm and smiled at the twins wrestling with their favi and being tickled while they squealed in delight.

Outside the apartment, where two guards constantly stood watch over the Seneschal of the Kingdom, a quick analysis of the noises inside was being made.

"Twice it seems," observed one.

"That means Mel wins today's pool," concluded the other as Punter approached. He paused, and when the guards nodded the all clear, he pulled the red silken rope by the door. Inside, there was a gentle, yet loud clang which informed Vikii that there was someone at the door.

"Oh piffle," she sighed. "Reality calls."

She got up and in a light dancing walk reached the main door and opened it up to look at Punter. Behind her Vharaun continued to play with their daughters. Punter, an older more refined gentleman, responded with decorum, though Vikii noted that his eyes swept up and down her frame briefly before becoming fixed upon her own face.

"Milady," he began. "I have been instructed to inform you of today's court schedule."

"Thank you, slave," she replied with a slight tilt of the head.

"Would Milady like her breakfast served in the main hall or in her chambers?"

"With my family in the chambers, slave," she replied with a smile.

"Very good ma'am," he continued. "Shall I then instruct Milady on the schedule for today's court during breakfast or after?"

"How much time before matters begin, slave?" she queried.

"In an hour and a half, Milady," he replied. "It seemed sensible to give you some time to prepare before the court begins."

"Very thoughtful of you slave, thank you," she answered.

"You're welcome," he replied. "So I shall instruct you during breakfast then?"

"That would be good, slave," she mused. "I should like my consort at hand for advice."

"Then I shall return with breakfast for you, your consort, and your children," he replied.

"Very good, slave, thank you," she answered. She noted that he remained standing there. She likewise suspected she heard the sniggering of guards on either side of the door frame.

"If I may suggest two things before I return with breakfast and we begin the matters at hand," he said.

"Yes, slave?" she responded.

"First ma'am," he began. "It is improper protocol to refer to me or any of the other servants as slave. Your security is to be referred to as guard or guards, and I am to be called Punter."

"Thank you, sla . . . Punter," she replied. "I shall endeavor to remember that. Yet another queer notion, she was having a hard time comprehending. The servants seemed to relish this notion of liberty they had, but why they remained and why they remained trustworthy was beyond her understanding.

"Furthermore, you do not need to carry a whip when instructing the kitchen staff as to your family menu for the week," Bunter continued. "Nor does it need to be cracked when you enter the kitchen to gather their attention."

"Are you sure about that . . . Punter?" she asked.

"Most certain ma'am," he replied.

"Should I bring in a Cat-o-nine tails then?" she asked.

"That will not be necessary either ma'am," replied Punter. "I am certain."

"Red hot pokers?" she asked.

"Nor is that necessary."

"How about trained and hungry sword spiders?"

"Neither is that necessary."

"But I need some means of enforcing my authority, slave . . .er, Punter."

"Your presence as Regent of the Kingdom is all the means of enforcing your authority needed, ma'am," replied Punter.

"How odd!"

"If you think so, ma'am," he replied.

"Very good then, slave, PUNter, . . . sorry," she answered.

"And the second suggestion." Punter remained completely stoic and composed.

"Certainly . . . Punter."

"Milady is free to dress as she feels appropriate in the privacy of her apartments with her family," suggested Punter with that quiet air of wise advice which Vikii found somewhat unsettling.

"And?"

"But when answering summons or dealing with the servants or guards some codes are commonly followed," he continued.

"Such as," she asked.

"Some clothing, preferably formal, is preferred to it's complete absence," he finished.

Stifled smirks emanated from behind the door frame on either side of Punter.

Vikii became aware that she had not bothered to put a thing on when she answered the door.

"Ooops," she thought. It was often more convenient since it saved the time needing to decide what to wear, and Savarre had always reacted in such an amusing fashion when she didn't bother in the tree house. Punter was being a rather boring dignified sort of person to the situation. No fun in that.

"I shall endeavor to remember that, slave," she finished.

"Very good ma'am," replied Punter with a bow and with that, he turned and walked down the hallway. A discouraged sigh seemed to emanate from his presence as he departed. She closed the door.

"If I may express my own opinions on your choice of fashion, Matron Mother?" queried an amused Vharaun behind her.

"Yes Consort?" she replied with a smile.

"Don't change a thing," he suggested.

"I shall of course be happy to follow such advice Consort," she replied with a saucy grin.

There was a sudden loud wooden crack, the sort that emanates when a large piece of hardwood furniture falls against a smooth marble stone floor. This was immediately followed by a "Your fault Rhorho!"

Vikii walked up and put her arms around Vharaun and looked into his eyes.

"Ah the good life," she said. "Wake up, make love, have breakfast served by the slaves, and then we get to flog the twins."

"And after that?" queried Vharaun.

Suddenly Vikii bit her lower lip and wrinkled her brow.

"Darling . . . I'm scared."

"Matron mother D'Vreeze? Regent of Beldin? Who has spat in the very face of Lolth? Frightened? You have all the power of the kingdom at your disposal now! What is there to fear?"

"The power!" she cried. "I want to be Regent! I want to rule! I want to crack the whip and order the slaves! And that means everyone I love will hate me and you will leave me and I can't have that. I can't have you leaving me! Goddess, I would die!"

She burst into tears and held on to him, her whole body quivering. As for him, his face bore the look of a man who had never experienced what he was experiencing before. Never before had he encountered a drow woman so totally vulnerable, totally trusting, and totally frightened. It was alien. She was terrified of what every Matron Mother in the Underdark was in a constant scheme to gain more of. But it also told him something else. She very much was able to Revert To Form. He did not like that idea at all. He enjoyed the liberty she had granted him. He enjoyed the liberty that the surface had granted him. And now she was telling him that just might all go away, rather suddenly and rudely.

It was becoming obvious to him. There was inside of her, a very wicked Matron Mother just waiting to be let loose. And she knew it, and she was terrified of it. And she knew, as he did, that he would not love such a woman. Who really could? Oh he might lust after such a creature, but in the end, he would tire of her. But love? You can not love evil . . . it is, by it's very nature, unlovable. And that's what she meant by loss. If she reverted to an evil drow, she would lose his love, and that was the thing, she seemed to be telling him, that was the most important thing for her in the world. If this had been revealed in a more gentle manner, he would have found it very gratifying, but then again, perhaps it was only coming out because of the crises she seemed to be having. After all, as he reviewed their relationship, hadn't she told him in a dozen other ways the very same thing?

His eyes narrowed. This was no mere little panic of low self-esteem. This was no insecurity due to stress, this little title of Regent was perhaps the biggest threat to their happiness on the horizon.

But what to do? Vharaun needed to think and think fast. And that was the problem. Drow men were trained from birth to let the women do the thinking. How would he even begin to deal with this?

* * *

S'nae closed her eyes and gripped Goudie's hand tightly. She gasped briefly.

"Art thou okay my maiden love?" queried Goudie, his formal vocabulary, as usual, over the top. S'nae had once mused that beneath that strong and solid frame, behind that utter devotion to Illmatar, within the loving personality, was a ham actor desperately trying to break free. Goudie's mother had been a traveling actress. He had never known his father. His only male models were the heroes of the stage. So when he had become a Paladin, he had a vast array of vocabulary and gestures that 'fit the role' he would now be 'playing'. And he played it. Constantly. So constantly that it was not unusual for him to sing "Ta ta ta taaaa!" when he charged an enemy. S'nae was never able to determine if she had fallen in love with him because he made her laugh so much or she laughed so much at his antics because she had fallen in love with him.

"I'm fine, you little ham-bone," S'nae replied, with a little teasing in her tone. She smiled in spite of the very nasty twinge she had just experienced. They were coming routinely now, like sharp cramps. Delanna, having just withdrawn her hand from within S'nae to check the width of her cervix, held up three fingers to Vikii, who nodded back. Delanna then proceeded to wash her hands.

Melody yawned and got back off the chair she had fallen asleep in.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"I'll check," offered R'seria who half hopped half trotted out of the room. The town clock could be seen from the town house once you got on the roof, and R'seria had no issues with being on the roof. Rumor had her on more than a few roofs over the past few years. But in spite of any efforts by suspicious members of the Ferrets, the King's chief means of law enforcement in the city and outlying lands, nothing stolen had ever been found on or near R'seria. As for R'seria, she got some curious satisfaction in being the object of Ferret suspicion so she did little to 'prove' her innocence.

Melody fidgeted a bit. The D'Vreeze household had no windows, the entire house, since remodeling a few years back, was encased in a stone wall with only a door which opened up on the basement floor. So she could not look outside and see. Of course so much depended on what time of the year it was. Daylight and Nighttime in Beldin were relative terms.

Vikii looked at S'nae, once again shutting her eyes and tensing up as the next contraction hit.

"Relax dear, breath deep, it will make the pain more manageable," she suggested.

"Yes Mamo!" S'nae snapped.

Goudie responded by placing his arm around S'nae's head and holding it next to his chest for a moment. She closed her eyes next to him and listened to his heart beating as she tried to breath more deeply.

"Just starting Morning," reported R'seria coming down. "There's a hint of dawn in the southern sky but nothing to hide the stars just yet."

"Farmers are getting up then," sighed Melody. "But we Bards should be sleeping still." She looked at S'nae who was still leaning against Goudie's chest, breathing deeply and holding on to his hand.

"I hope I have a husband like him when I give birth," she thought to herself. For an instant she was jealous of S'nae's luck at marrying Goudie.

"I always prefer fall to spring," sighed M'randa. "It keeps getting dark sooner and sooner."

"So do the vampires," snorted Chess'rina.

"Your point being?" queried M'randa with a frown.

"Hush girls," suggested Delanna. "This is happy time. Not snippy time."

"The old ways," sighed Vikii. "So deep within us . . ."

* * *

The sun had set that on a late spring day. There would be maybe six hours of night after twilight. But Vharaun was not ready to take advantage of the darkening skies and the reduction of stress upon his eyes and skin. He was pacing in the library. He was angry, frustrated, and not a little frightened. This tenday had started out so lovely. He had woken up, loved his matron, and they had gathered for a delightful breakfast while Punter had come in to instruct Vikii as to the court's schedule.

And then it had all gone horribly wrong. In spite of her entreaties that he 'smack her silly' should she become more and addicted to the power of ruling, he could not find a point in which she had fully reverted to form. Back and forth from kind and considerate, to cunning and clever, to polite and devious. It was such a sudden shift and swing. On one hand she would smile with that curling cruel twist of the lips which would send shivers down his spine, and the next she would be all over and conciliatory with the latest trouble of some charwoman and her employer's angry cow. Slowly Aelfgive was recovering from the disease. Priestly ministrations and not a few spells were rapidly removing that issue. But Avery remained missing. No one could find him, by scry or luck. And each day Vharaun saw the cruel side of his people spend just a little more time upon her features.

At night she would weep and beg him to save her. But come the day, with the crack of the whip she was carrying with her at all times, it would be only a few moments and there would be that gleam in her eyes, that drinking in the power, that drunken orgy of addiction which marked her on the stairs before the thrones of Beldin. There were grounds for hope of course. She persisted in sitting below the thrones. She did not rise to them yet. But how long before she would? He wondered.

Today, today had been the worst. She had gotten up, spent a full half an hour before the tapestry of Eilistraee begging to be released, begging to be transformed, and then Punter had come in with the schedule and within seconds, she was back to addressing him as slave, musing over the number of executions she would get to sentence, and in short, once again reveling in the power.

In the middle of this latest court, where the nobles were once again vying for Vikii's attention and rulings in their favors, a particularly nasty halfling named Onir had shown up. Onir had a reputation for obnoxiousness, and furthermore, he despised Aelfgive for reasons which remained rather elusive. But no one ever understood why Onir hated whom he hated. But he sat there insulting the queen in a very crude fashion and Vikii got 'that look'. Vharaun could only pick up the most subtle twitches of her fingers, but in a matter of seconds later, Onir was dead from a stab in the back. It was one of Vikii's adventurer friends who had dropped by to say hi. She smiled sweetly, told him how much she appreciated him coming by, hoped the sudden death of Onir had not caused any distress to the court, and then as her adventuring buddy picked up the corpse and carried it off, she went back to business as usual.

As for the local nobility, there was not a little paling of faces. Vikii had a reputation for the swift and unforeseen assassination. But to see it play out so publicly was more than a little disconcerting. But then again, Vharaun knew Vikii loved her assassinations to be quite public, he knew she loved to be standing there utterly unarmed when they happened, and finally, she loved it when they just happened in the middle of the mundane and ordinary day to day. It was her style. It was one thing to be killed by an assassin coming at you in black armor and blades in hand. But to be killed by an unarmored and unarmed woman in a nice long formal dress who was smiling politely at you while her lackey slipped up behind you and slit your throat completely unanticipated, that was something else entirely. It was one thing for him to see her assassinate yet another foe of her friends or associates, but it was that gentle smile upon her face and gleam in her eyes as Onir's corpse flopped upon the floor that he found the most terrifying. She was very clearly transforming into the Underdark Matron Mother of legend and lore. Little by little, bit by bit, she was turning into the monster that made surfacer children tremble in fear.

But then, Aelfgive had walked in, nearly recovered from her illness. Vikii had suddenly gotten up, walked over, hugged the woman, and helped her up to her throne where she sat. However she insisted on Vikii finishing the day's business as she was still recovering. Vikii had swiftly resumed her position of power and authority.

Now, in the library, amid the silence of old leather bound parchment books and the gentle ticking of a gnomish time keeping mechanical device, Vharaun had the silence to reflect. She had not been joking about the lure of power in her being. She was clearly transforming before his very eyes. And what could he do?

"The Matron Regent has retired," a voice broke into his train of thought.

Vharaun looked up. Mendel Greenwood had just walked into the library. The king's cousin, he had been noticeably absent for the past few days, starting with the wedding.

"Matron Regant?" snapped Vharaun. He did not like the sound of that.

Mendel chuckled. "She was waving that whip about, I'm surprised I didn't get a welt, but then again maybe I shouldn't have told that little lie."

"I'm not surprised," deadpanned Vharaun.

"Now that I look back on it," he continued with that old man chuckle that comes with a lifelong perspective of the value of humor in day to day things, "it was rather funny don't you think? She's so cute when she sits up there . . ."

"I've seen many like her in my life," replied Vharaun with out a trace of smile upon his features.

"With a whip as long as two of her laid end to end."

"Yes, the whip."

"And she wields it as if she were born and bred to do it. Amazing!"

"Not really."

"We can't exactly call her Matron Mother," Mendel continued, "but it's clear she's acting like one. Rather humorous what?"

"I see nothing funny about it," replied Vharaun. "I find it not a little tragic."

"Of course Avery knew what he was doing. He certainly can't have his fiancé ruling . . . not until the marriage."

"What?" barked Vharaun. "I was there, they were married."

"Oh?" asked Mendel. "I wasn't - how odd - must not have happened then."

"Wait!" cried Vharaun, ignoring Mendel's curious conclusion. "You said it would be inappropriate for his fiancé Aelfgive to rule, but what if she were Queen?"

"No sense in talking about it young Vharaun," chattered Mendel. "She's not married, she's not Queen, and so she can't rule."

"But if she were Queen?" pressed Vharaun.

"Nice little thing, a bit caustic 'round the edges, kind of reminds me of a young enchantress I knew back when," continued Mendel.

"If she were Queen?" asked Vharaun again.

"And that reminds me of that time when Avery and I were trying to figure out why our sheep flocks were so nervous when ever that peddler . . . Woo Weely . . ."

"Mendel" asked Vharaun between his teeth.

"Or was it Will Wooly . . ."

"If Aelfgive were Queen?"

"Showed up."

"Mendel!"

"Yes?" Mendel looked up at Vharaun, a curious expression on is face.

Vharaun, realizing that Mendel had no clue as to what he was trying to ask, paused to sigh in frustration.

"Must have been Will Wooly . . . sheep . . . wool . . . makes sense doesn't it?"

Vharaun drew his rapier and advanced on Mendel, his eyes bright red. There's nothing more annoying when you are upset over your beloved turning into an underdark scion of evil to end up doing the same thing when you are pressed. Such is the struggle of all Drow who seek redemption. Vharaun would later rue this act, but at the moment, he was too upset to recognize the lure bred deep into the heart of all Drow.

"You seem upset over something," observed Mendel, backing up slightly.

Vharaun was able to pause and collect his thoughts. Pointing the rapier at Mendel he spoke quietly and slowly.

"If Aelfgive were Queen, she would rightfully rule, is that not correct?"

"Well of course," replied Mendel, his eyes darting from the point of the rapier to Vharaun's glowing red eyes and back again. The sages of Faerun have noted that having a sharp pointed thing aimed at your throat clears the mind wonderfully.

"That is all I needed to know," finished Vharaun. He dashed from the library.

Mendel shook his head.

"Silly young cubs these days," he muttered. "Can't keep to a single subject to save their lives."

Vharaun dashed back to their apartments and entered. He walked though the living room and paused to check in on the twins. They were asleep, with S'nae, in a single large bed. All three girls were holding bits of a plush toy, which they had apparently had a disagreement upon. He smiled and shook his head. It seemed the next generation was doomed to struggle against their nature as well. Then he went to his and Vikii's bedroom.

She was asleep. Gently he lifted the sheets and looked at her. She was on her back and the moonlight reflected off of her dark gray skin and glistened in her white hair. While she was altogether beautiful in the shadows, he found his gaze remained on her face, which was relaxed and her mouth just slightly open. He leaned down.

"Vikii?" he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open. She looked at him and a sudden flash of realization crosses her face.

"Oh darling!" she whimpered. "I'm so sorry. I was a beast today, I know it." She reached up and held him tightly. "This is horrible, I wish I had never been appointed Regent . . . I can't resist that power."

"It's all right dear," he whispered. "I know how we can save you from that."

"You do?" she asked. Her eyes widened and she sat up. "What darling!"

Vharaun explained to her all that he had learned from Mendel, leaving out the part that he had been holding a rapier at Mendel's throat at the time.

A flash of hope reflected in Vikii's eyes. "Then all I have to do is invest Aelfi!" she whispered delighted and excitedly. "Then I can go back to being Seneschal, let Aelfi do all the decision making . . ." She gently smiled. "And we can make love," she finished.

"Odd how our conversations almost always end with her proposing that," mused Vharaun's thought. "No matter what the topic." But already she was sitting up with one hand caressing his face, the other unbuttoning his shirt, and her teeth nibbling on the base of his neck. There was nothing for it but to do what seemed appropriate.

"I'm your slave," she whispered. "Command me."

She may have been a Matron Mother in front of the throne of Beldin, but there was no doubt who ruled in the bedchamber mused Vharaun to himself. And that pretty much set the topic for the rest of the evening.

The morning dawned, Leander won the pool by correctly guessing four times. Shortly thereafter, Punter entered. "Milady," he reported. "I am ready to give you the schedule of today's court cases."

"That will not be necessary, Punter," replied Vikii.

"Milady?" asked Punter, his eyes wide and surprise writ large upon his face.

Vikii looked at her Vharaun, who smiled back.

"There has been a change in the schedule, slave," finished Vikii.

Punter sighed, but consoled himself with the thought that old habits are hard to break.

"Aelfgive has, in our opinion, recovered sufficiently to assume the mantle of queen-ship. Accordingly I will be surrendering my office to her first thing this morning."

"Very good ma'am," answered Punter. This was, in his mind, very good news. His desire to hasten the process immediately manifested itself. "If I may suggest?" he began.

"By all means slave," replied Vikii.

"Mendel, the king's cousin, remains unconvinced that the Queen is, in fact, the Queen. And until he is firmly convinced of that, he will provide sufficient objection to render her incapable of ruling without dispute."

"I see," replied Vikii. She sighed. Why were these things never easy.

"Damn," muttered Vharaun. "I forgot about that. I should have told you last night, love."

"It's all right darling," answered Vikii smiling. "You told me what was important. How difficult can it be? I'll just ooze my usual charm, cloud his mind, and Aelfi will be sitting on her throne by midmorning, happily shouting 'Off with his head' all she wants." She looked deep into Vharaun's eyes, utterly happy. "And then darling," she said with a sigh and closed eyes. "We can make . . ."

" Yes dear, of course!" shouted Vharaun leaping up and giving her a manly fraternal punch on the arm. He had no desire to have her embarrass him in front of the butler.

Punter smiled to himself. More than a few men were envious of Vharaun's marriage to what appeared to be an utterly insatiable woman, but this was not one of those moments.

Vikii stood up walked over to the mirror, and primped her hair for a moment, and brushed the wrinkles out of her long black and red formal robes. Then she reached for the coiled whip on the table beside the mirror and strapped it on her waist belt beside her house D'Vreeze dagger. Her facial features were suddenly hard and cold.

Vharaun winced. "Darling . . ." he began.

"Come!" she pronounced. "Let us go and get this taken care of."

Vharaun sighed and consoled himself that this bad dream would be over shortly. He walked past Punter and sighed.

"You have my sympathy, Milord," offered Punter.

Vharaun placed his hand on Punter's shoulder. The surface is usually good to male drow. It's customs may strike him as strange, it's sun might burn his eyes, but there's no doubt that the overall attitude between the sexes, often giving the man the chief positions of status and authority, and the frequent fact that even some of the greatest tyrannies do not oppress the ordinary soul as greatly as Lolth and her Priestesses do in the Underdark, make his life one of freedom and liberty. The homicidal streak, bred by Lolth into the fabric of the drow, remains under the surface, but the trust, and naturally good inclinations of the surface people, gives the male drow less opportunity to be tempted to murder. He has an easier time of it than the female of the species. Accordingly, it is easier for him to adapt and be accepted.

"It will be over shortly," he mused.

"Vhraun?" shouted Vikii from down the hall. There was a crack in her voice.

"She's still struggling against it underneath the surface," mused Vharaun. "That's a good sign."

He caught up with Vikii, who, in spite of her imperiousness, seemed to want him to be with her. She offered her arm and he took it saying "I love you."

She trembled slightly. "Goddess," she whispered. "Get me through this sane."

A compassion for her struggle flowed from Vharaun. For just an instant, she was once again his little Vikii. But by the time they had reached the Court Hall, the old cruel nature had reasserted itself.

Vikii approached the left hand throne, but caught herself in time, and turned to sit on the step in front of the dais. The Under - Seneschal approached.

"Slave!" she barked. "Fetch the king's cousin, Mendel Greenwood."

Vharaun sat next to her and clasped her hand briefly. Once again she trembled slightly. She looked at him.

"Make a note, lad," he thought to himself. "Make a note."

The Under - Seneschal, with not a little irritation, bowed and departed to fetch the king's cousin. As he passed Punter, they both nodded to each other in sympathy.

Vharaun however, was reflecting. It was beginning to dawn upon him that if the old Matron Mother nature had been fully manifest, Vikii would not be engaged in what was now taking place, namely her surrender of power. An old Matron Mother would have been scheming to see Aelfgive and Avery out of the picture, permanently. Vikii was, on the other hand scheming to get Aelfgive into power and her out of it. Vharaun began to wonder if the old nature was more on the outside working on Vikii's weaknesses to get in, as what he had previously thought, where the kindness of Eilistraee was working to overcome her inner evil nature. It was a very good sign. It meant that underneath it all, she hated her old nature and was battling against it where she could, turning her evil tendencies against themselves. It struck him as a paradox that the very treacherous nature of the ancient nature of their people was being employed to betray itself. A sage would not have been surprised, and he would have nodded to Vharaun with a small smile and pronounced "The man who is treacherous, becomes so attached to betrayal, that in the end, he always betrays himself and thus falls." But for Vharaun, this was a new revelation.

Mendel entered the throne room.

"Matron Regent?" he asked with that enigmatic smile of his.

Vikii smiled and spoke.

"It has become aware to us that the Queen has sufficiently recovered to resume her duties, which include the ruling of the kingdom in the King's absence . . ."

"We have no Queen," replied Mendel.

"We do, Mendel," retorted Vikii. "She was married less than a tenday ago to Avery here in this very hall."

"I am unaware of that," objected Mendel.

"That's irrelevant," retorted Vikii.

"And even if it was a ceremony of some sort . . . " continued Mendel.

"Mendel, if she's married, she's Queen. I was there," argued Vikii.

"As was I," added Vrinn.

". . . it's not valid unless they are married by one higher in rank than the king."

"What?" snapped Vharaun.

"And is there anyone in Beldin of higher rank than the king?"

"Now wait a moment," objected Vikii.

"Nope," finished Mendel. "So she's not Queen."

"Then at least you agree that a ceremony took place?" asked Vharaun.

"I wasn't there. It didn't happen," concluded Mendel.

"This is outrageous!" snapped Vikii standing up.

"And as Avery appointed you Regent," continued Mendel. "That means by law you are Regent until he returns."

"Mendel!" argued Vharaun standing up. "Just because you were off in that dusty old tower of yours during the ceremony . . ."

"It's not dusty!" replied Mendel.

" . . . does not mean that the ceremony didn't happen!"

"Well, I could pick up a little of the clutter that's accumulated over the past . . ." mused Mendel.

"Mendel!" cried Vikii. "How can you possibly come to the thinking that just because you were not there . . ."

" . . . goodness . . ." continued Mendel to himself "When WAS the last time I picked up?"

" . . . they are not married?" finished Vikii.

"My, now that I think of it, I don't even remember the last time I opened my mail," mused Mendel.

"Mendel, can't you accept our word that the ceremony took place?" asked Vharaun.

"In fact, that may explain why some of those envelopes are so yellow on the floor by the door."

"Mendel?" asked Vharaun.

"And I wonder what that one piece of mail from Avery in that florid penmanship is all about at the top?"

"Mendel!" shouted Vikii.

"Looks like it might be important," continued Mendel to himself. "Done in the style of an invitation."

"Mendel!" both Vikii and Vharaun shouted together.

"Reminds me of that time we had that costume party and this bright young cute enchantress dressed in the illusion of a nymph . . ."

Vharaun noted that Vikii's hand was on the handle of her whip.

"And when she stepped on that dispel square we put in for security reasons . . ."

"Vikii?" he asked.

"And the illusion fell . . ."

Vikii paused and looked at Vharaun, a certain softness came back to her gaze.

"There she was, standing in her underwear . . ."

"May I?" she asked Vharaun.

"And her stays was obviously stuffed with cloth . . ."

"Be my guest," replied Vharaun with a sigh.

"It was most embarrassing for her . . ."

There was a sudden crack of a whip right next to Mendel's face. He ducked and backed up a step as Vikii advance on him.

"Are you upset about something Matron Regent?" he queried, a curious expression on his face.

"I asked," repeated Vikii slowly and with several deep breaths to keep her eyes from burning an even brighter red than they already were. "if since Vharaun and I both attest to the ceremony taking place, you will accept it?"

"Oh?" asked Mendel. "Is that what this is all about?"

Vikii closed her eyes and hung her head while Vharaun said in deadpan. "Yes."

"If you can provide me with two witnesses," answered Mendel.

Vikii and Vharaun looked at each other. Vharaun shook his head while Vikii sighed.

"So what are we?" asked Vikii. "Aboleth fillets? Illithid Calimari?"

"Well you have an interest in these proceedings," argued Mendel facing Vikii.

"How? I'm trying to give up the power I've got!" she shouted. "How could that require me to recuse myself?"

"Oh there are reasons," replied Mendel. "I'm sorry, but you don't have enough with just Vharaun standing there."

"I see . . ." replied Vikii. She frowned.

"Slaves!" she shouted.

Punter and the Under - Seneschal looked at each other. There was a brief contest of wills, and the Under - Seneschal came forward and bowed.

"Have the guards fetch Savarre," she said.

The Under - Seneschal bowed.

Vikii sat down on the first step of the dais with Vharaun next to her. She reached out and clasped his hand while he surreptitiously scooted the whip, she had laid down, away from her, with his other hand.

"Well," continued Mendel. "In that case, we can resume . ."

"Not until we finish this," replied Vikii.

"But Matron Regent!" objected Mendel. "This could take hours!"

"Not my problem," replied Vikii. "Yours."

She and Vharaun remained seated while Mendel stood there for a moment. He began to fidget and look for the exit.

"If I may?" he asked.

"Nope," replied Vikii. "You're staying right here."

They all sat and looked at each other for a few moments. Then Vikii leaned on Vharaun's shoulder.

"When this is over," she whispered. "Our bed room, me naked in your arms. Is it a date?"

"Yes," replied Vharaun.

Vikii smiled and sighed contentedly.

**_To be continued . . ._**


	16. Chapter 16 - Matron Mother - Part Two

"Goudie!" cried S'nae. "Make it stop! Please, make it stop!" She screamed once more and with a sudden thrashing yanked her hand from Vikii's grasp and slammed it into Goudie's face. He flinched just a bit but ignored the blood dripping from his nose.

"Courage, my silvered darling," he whispered. "Courage for our son."

S'nae whimpered, and then cried again. Her teeth were clenched and her whole body seemed to spasm.

"Just like her mother," sighed Delanna. She turned to Vikii and held up five fingers.

"Just like her father," whispered Vikii looking at Goudie. She apparently had not noticed Delanna's hand signal. She got up and walked around S'nae to where Goudie remained, holding S'nae's left hand. She gently placed a couple of fingers on Goudie's now rather badly broken nose and with a single magical incantation, restored it to whole. She then gently guided Goudie's head so that he faced her, and she leaned over and kissed his forehead.

"Now I know why she loves you," said Vikii.

"It's about time," huffed Delanna in a gentle way to Vikii.

"I don't want to do this anymore!" cried S'nae. "I want it to stop!" She screamed yet again.

"Almost there dear," suggested Delanna. "He'll be coming along any moment now. One contraction at a time Sisi, just take them one at a time."

"You sure," enquired Vikii looking now at Delanna.

Delanna simply held up five fingers again. Vikii nodded and resumed her chair on S'nae's right. S'nae simply grabbed Goudie's hand with both of hers and simply began to focus on his face.

* * *

Three young women, a blond, brunette, and a redhead were seated at a table in the Bar. They were young adventurers, the sort that come through for a season, learn a little about adventuring, make a few thousand, and scurry off to other parts unknown. Like all young adventures', they had a fresh faced rosy dewed idealism which was always attractive to the veterans of Beldin, even those who were utterly devoted to someone else. And in the case of Savarre, quite willing to listen tales of adventure and achievement in the face of impossible odds.

"Ah yes," mused Savarre, "we had reached the top of the mountains outside of Blumonte, and ahead of us was the Frost Giant chieftain's tower. It was all or nothing. Shovel, Vikii, and myself finished our preparations, I made sure my hair was immaculate, and we charged in facing certain death."

The girls clasped their hands by their faces, gasped, and looked at him wide eyed.

Savarre paused.

"Well?" begged the blond. "What happened next?"

A scene flashed through Savarre's eyes, himself, his clothing torn and rent, his hair braids hacked beyond repair. Shovel bloody and beaten, armor rent, sword notched. Vikii sprawled exhausted on a rock, her deep black clothing in tatters and her skin covered in deep cuts and scabs. Their healing spells, potions, and resurrection scrolls utterly spent, panting half way down the mountain, hidden in a cleft, while the thunder of masses of frost giant's feet pounded fast by in hot pursuit. Him turning to Vikii and saying . . . . "We agree Delanna will never know of this, correct?"

Vikii, turning to him, her silvery hair a mass of blood and dirt muttering though cracked mouth, "My lips are sealed."

"It was a brutal fight," admitted Savarre. "We took great wounds . . ."

The girls gasped.

"The Frost Giant Chieftain struck at me and I barely tucked while his razor sharp blade took three strands of my hair. But a mocking bellow from Shovel distracted him and he turned on Shovel. His great sword came down and Shovel barely had time to deflect it with his blade, but now I could strike and slipped to the side, burying my dagger into the back of his knee. Vikii, gracefully pirouetting, planted the point of her sword into the back of the other knee and as the chieftain staggered forward, a swing of Shovel's great two handed blade took his head off in a single stroke!"

The girls all cheered and clapped and smiled sweetly.

Savarre basked in the glow of youthful feminine adulation waiting to hear the one thing that would make the outrageous lie worth it.

"Why is it that all the good ones are already taken?" whispered the redhead to the brunette.

His triumph was complete . . . in his mind at least. And as he was about to relate another tale of his exploits, one which actually turned out less catastrophic, a big meaty hand clamped down upon his shoulder and he was bodily turned to face two of the silver and blue armored guards of the Royal Livery.

"Matron Regent D'Vreeze wishes to see you," they barked. "Now!"

Savarre knew instantly that Vikii had no intention of him being summoned this rudely. Likewise, these were young pups, brash and fully confidant of their grasp of right and wrong, lacking the age and wisdom which older soldiers possess, causing them to reflect longer on their actions. But a quick glance at the girl's and the horror on their faces was simply too good to pass up. Apparently the young girls didn't know that Savarre's friend Vikii, had a last name of D'Vreeze and D'Vreeze had a first name, Vikii. Savoire, like all the residents in the Karen, had heard (but not believed, knowing better) the rapidly spreading rumors of the Drow bitch Matron Mother D'Vreeze and her horrifying and malicious rendering of the innocents of Beldin into an Underdark tyranny which included, among other things, torture, assassination, and public humiliations. Like all rumors, there was just enough truth in Vikii's antics to make it believable. She was after all Drow, and she did employ classic drow methods for getting the job done. The tales had Aelfgive, riven and utterly overwhelmed with grief and plague, suffering a slow and painful death in her chambers while Vikii employed just enough magic to keep her alive lest she die before that cunning and malicious scion of the Underdark (everyone knew that she was Lolth's priestess and this Eilistraee thing was obviously a front to fool the gullible) could make her power secure and then march to destroy the valley and sacrifice all of them screaming on the altar of that Spider-bitch Lolth.

That the Royal Guards of Beldin would not tolerate such behavior did not seem to permeate the haze of the rumors, and the fact that they could have all taken her down - for not even the greatest of adventurers, could withstand an entire party of other adventurers - remained unexamined. Such is the psychology of rumor mills. But the facts were, most of the Castle staff found her methods merely unorthodox, but not evil, and in many cases, rather humorous. She cracked the whip, but never hit anyone, she called all the servants slaves, but never treated them like it, and she ruled directly and decisively, but always from the steps below the dais of the King and Queen and more often to spare and heal than judge and harm.

But the young adventures' were horrified and the blond in particular was ready to burst into tears. All three were standing up and reaching for their weapons and the two guards where going into defensive mode.

"Ladies cease!" cried Savarre, adopting what he hoped was a noble and flamboyant pose, one hand over his heart and the other, palm out raised like a Mulhorodi Imperial Salute.

"Where's a bloody mirror when you need one," he thought to himself.

"Savarre!" they cried. "We'll save you from her!"

"No!" he replied nobly. "These are her minions, far far to great for you as of yet. I should be saddened, going to my horrifying fate, knowing that three young beautiful lasses such as yourselves had died in the flower of youth and beauty to spare me from the clutches of the Drow Matron Mother D'Vreeze. Remember me and train, and when you have achieved your power, march out and defend the Karen from all minions of evil, however foul, malicious, cruel, cunning, wicked, brutal, callous, malevolent, nasty, brutish, or . . .

The mind is a curious beast. And as Savarre mused in the back of his head how much Vikii would giggle over this charade, images of her flashed through his head, including one of her dancing in the forest glade by the tree house, her twirling long thin sword glistening with the moonlight, clad only in her long silver hair. This image had a nasty tendency to linger.

" . . . naked." he finished.

"GYAH! DID I SAY THAT?!" his mind shrieked.

His surface features remained, however, noble and resigned in a stoic fashion.

Only the redhead registered any mental hiccup over his comment, but she was overwhelmed by the cries and tears of the blond and brunette.

"Do your worst," he said, turning to the guards. "I shall laugh in the face of her tortures."

"Yeah yeah," the guards groused. "Get going."

And so Savarre was led from the Bar, flanked by two of Beldin's finest, while his female audience wept and began to think of how they might look best in black.

The trip to the Castle might have been brief, for it was only up a single street to a flight of stairs where you turned right and walked past the marketplace before ascending the second flight of stairs to the Castle Plaza. But for Savarre this was fraught with peril . . .there was no brush accessible, he didn't have a change of clothing, and there was no mirror in all of city to speak of. He pointed this out to the guards sufficiently for them to threaten to carry him to Vikii bound and gagged. His argument that she and he were old and dear friends made no impression on these young pups. They did not manhandle him, so he couldn't really complain forcefully enough. But what if some beggar were to snag his sleeve? What if some bird fluttered in his hair? What if he got mobbed by a group of young merchants mistaking him for a 'just off the boat' (and therefore gullible) adventurer who would then manhandle him trying to sell genuine shrunken monster heads for only 4 silver each! He was a nervous wreak by the time the Castle finally came into sight. His face was pale and wan. So when Punter met the guards and informed Savarre that he would find a bedroom with bath and change of clothing and tortoise shell comb and brush waiting for him courtesy of Vikii, he leapt for joy and praised her name to the heavens. There was even a monogramed toothbrush with his favorite striped raspberry flavored toothpaste waiting for him. And when he smiled afterwards, he discovered, much to his delight, that the toothpaste had been glamoured so his teeth actually reflected the light of the sun! She understood! She cared! She . . . what the devil did she want him for anyway?

Savarre strode into the throne room and Vikii stood, skipped over to him and gave him a big hug.

"Savi!" she said. "I so glad you came!"

"Well," he replied. "It's not that I had much choice . . ."

"Oh!" Vikii's face suddenly dawned a realization. "They . . . they didn't rough you up or anything did they?"

"Well no . . . but,"

"Slave!" shouted Vikii.

Punter walked up somewhat resigned.

"Prepare the instruments of torture . . ." she ordered.

Punter's eyes widened while Savarre struggled with feeling sympathy for the guards but at the same time finding Vikii's poise and demeanor rather amusing. She was standing there, her left hand resting, index finger extended, upon her cheek and her right hand upon her hip. Likewise, he had never seen her torture anyone and he had to confess to himself that he was awfully curious to see how Drow did that sort of thing. The tales were horrifying, but likewise, attractive in a macabre sort of fashion. It would be educational to say the least.

"Let's see," she mused in a voice which sounded as if she was preparing a tea party. "We'll need a scourge, chains, manacles, acid, hot pokers, a nice rack . . . I have a new design needs to be tested . . . a set of matching skinning knives . . . boiling paraffin . . ."

"Ah Vikii?" suggested Vharaun, walking up.

"Yes, darling?" she answered turning to him with a sweet smile on her face.

"Why don't we just tell them the next time to treat Savarre politely?" he offered.

"A most excellent suggestion, Milord," added Punter.

"Well . . ." began Savarre. He checked himself. "Yes, yes, Vikii," he finished. "Just tell them we're dear old friends and the fear of their treatment of me, coupled with The Look I'll give them, will be torture enough."

Vikii looked briefly disappointed. "Are you all sure?" she asked.

"Oh yes," they all agreed.

She sighed. "Very well," she concluded. "Now to business!" She turned to where Mendel was seated, his eyes closed and his hands clasped upon his lap. Leaning over she made to whisper into his ear. "MENDEL!" she shrieked.

Mendel leaped up out of the chair and quickly scanned the room.

"You asked for two witnesses," she said.

"What for?" answered Mendel. "I was in the middle of thinking over the effects of Stink Beetle Juice on their mating rituals . . ."

"For the wedding?"

"And you don't need two witnesses for that, merely a detached observer," he continued.

"Aelfgive and Avery?"

"They're not stink beetles, why would I want to study their mating rituals?"

"Get my whip will you, Vharaun, my love?"

"Certainly darling"

"Now Matron Regent, surely that's not necessary."

"Oh I'm afraid it is not only necessary but politically correct."

"Now Matron . . ."

The sounds of whip cracking and whip whistling filled the court room as Mendel ducked and weaved while Vikii expertly flicked the tip about his feet and head, never hitting, but certainly making him jump.

Shortly thereafter, Mendel, utterly exhausted, slumped into his chair.

"Here are Savarre and Vharaun, they were at the wedding," said Vikii.

Savarre and Vharaun nodded.

Mendel looked at them both.

"Well you clearly have two witnesses, but that doesn't prove Aelfgive is Queen," he argued.

"What?" shrieked Vikii.

"In order for Aelfgive to be rightfully Queen, as I said before, she must be married to the King by a person who is of higher rank than Avery. There is no one of that station in all of the Karen," he continued.

"Then what is she if not Queen?" stammered Vharaun.

"His wife," replied Mendel, not without a little smugness. "That's all."

"No," retorted Vikii. "His Queen."

"Impossible!" snapped Mendel.

"No," replied Vikii with a smile. "Tymora performed the ceremony."

"Who?" asked Mendel.

"No problem!" cried Savoire in triumph. "She clearly outranks King Avery."

"No one outranks him!" argued Mendel. He crossed his arms and adopted a grim expression.

"She does," replied Vikii. "She's a Goddess."

"A what?"

"Goddess," replied Vikii. "Last time I checked, a Goddess outranks a King or even Emperor."

Mendel couldn't answer that.

"Two witnesses, and marriage by a Goddess," answered Vikii. "She's Queen, and therefore, having recovered from the plague, she's fit to assume her duties and I can step down."  
She smiled and sighed, closing her eyes. Then dashed off to tell Aelfgive the news.

And so, an hour later, Aelfgive was crowned Queen of Beldin and the Pipers played the coronation song to mark the event and Savarre applauded. Mendel, after a bit of grumbling, did homage and with Aelfgive in her throne, her crown upon her head, Vikii stepped back and smiled, holding Vharaun's hand.

"Vikii," began Aelfgive. "If you are willing to surrender the position of Seneschal to the Under-Seneschal, I should like you to be my Lady in Waiting." It was a demotion of power, but likewise a climb in status which carried a great deal more influence than Seneschal.

"I should be delighted," answered Vikii, she curtsied before Aelfgive and then turned to Vharaun and gave him a very suggestive glance.

"And I have a query to ask you," Aelfgive continued, unaware of the signal that Vikii had just given.

"In a little while," answered Vikii. "I have a . . . a conference . . .Yes! That's it! . . . I have to confer with my husband, Vharaun!" With that she dashed towards the door which would lead to the stairs to her apartments dragging Vharaun behind her, his last expression was to Savarre, a sheepish grin and resignation to his fate.

As they passed the guards, the men began holding up fingers and passing about a hat in which money was deposited. Aelfgive smiled as they departed then Savarre noticed she looked at the empty throne beside her and a deep sadness filled her.

"Well," he mused. "One problem at a time."

* * *

"PUSH!" gasped S'nae. "PUUUUUSH!"

"You're doing find girl, you're doing fine. Here he comes. The prince has his crown," encouraged Delanna.

Behind Delanna four D'Vreeze sisters looked on. Goudie however was looking at S'nae's face while Vikii was looking at Delanna. S'nae herself was trying to look between her legs, which was next to impossible since she was on her back and could only see the very top of her stomach. Everything she wanted to see was clearly happening below her field of vision.

"Euuuuuu!" cried M'thana who ran from the room. This was followed by a soft thud from M'randa's body gently impacting the floor after she fainted. R'seria and Chess'rina looked at each other with that 'We're better than they are' look that girls are fond of getting when they've just proven themselves superior. It's one of those fairly universal expressions, just that Drow girls do it more often.

"And the shoulders," said Delanna. "Here they come, and out! He's out."

There was a brief wail from the newborn.

"My baby," sighed S'nae. She reached for her son.

"Just a moment dear," replied Delanna. "We have to cut the umbilical cord," she produced a flint knife which she tested for a second before she placed it just an inch above the child's belly. " . . . just . . . like . . . that! And now for the silken thread?" She took the spool that Vikii handed her. "Wrap it around the end, tie it up nice and tight so nothing oozes now. And here you go mother, your brand new son."

S'nae looked into her baby's face and whimpered a moment. "Look Hambone, we have a baby."

"I see," observed Goudie looking into the child's face and then back to S'nae. "He hast thine eyes my darling grey maiden."

Delanna was easing the placenta out and putting it into a pot and R'seria was busy mopping up the floor from the water and amniotic fluid discharges which had marked the end of the birth.

"Stinky stinky stinky," she giggled.

"Now give the child your breast dear," continued Delanna. Vikii nodded.

"But don't I have to teach him first?" asked S'nae. She was paying almost no attention to the washing her lower regions were being given by Delanna.

"Goodness every baby knows what to do when given a breast," Vikii assured her. "Do it now. We can help."

"How?" queried Goudie, his eyes narrowing with a bit of suspicion. In the emotions of the moment, Vikii noted he was not flowering his language as was his usual habit.

"You'll see Goudie," answered Delanna.

S'nae was busy maneuvering her child and opened up her top and put her breast's nipple next to her child's mouth. The boy promptly latched on and commenced to suckle. S'nae looked at this for a moment in frank amazement. And then she began to frown.

"I don't feel anything going out," she said.

"You won't dear, but don't worry, he's getting fed. If he didn't, he would let go after a few seconds and start to cry." answered Delanna.

S'nae looked at her mother who nodded in the affirmative. "You in particular would let me know when my breast was empty and needed switching," she added with a nostalgic smile.

Delanna was gently covering up S'nae's lower body and moving the back half of the couch into position now that everything had been wiped up and cleaned.

"Any spells to help with closure?" queried Vikii.

Delanna shook her head. "She's a young healthy girl, Vikii. Everything opened and closed on cue."

"If only all difficulties were solved so swiftly," sighed Vikii.

* * *

Aelfgive was pacing in her chambers . . . "their" chambers she reminded herself. They belonged to Avery, her husband, her king, as well. Her short blond hair was in disarray, her tiara askew, and her long brown dress crumpled from alternatively sitting, pacing, rolling on the bed, slumping on the floor, and just stamping about the halls and rooms in frustration.

Down the hallway from her, Vikii was with her husband and family. She was happy and at ease. Likewise she had just announced she was pregnant. It was, like S'nae, a single conception, unlike Vikii's first two which had been twins and triplets. Aelfgive didn't want to imagine having that many children at once, and from Vikii had said, Drow women almost always conceived multiple children.

"Lolth has seen to that," she had said with a curious sigh. "Then the infants fight for dominance in the womb with the strong killing the weak. And the survivor is born while the mother absorbs the corpses back into her body."

"Then how did you have the twins?" asked Aelfgive.

"Eilistraee intervened," answered Vikii. "She can't entirely undo the process, they still fight, but it does not end in fatalities. It merely establishes the pecking order . . . and as a result, the Chad-zak lasts longer."

"Chad-zak?" asked Xtacy.

"The euphoria a drow woman feels when her infants are fighting," answered Vikii.

"Euphoria?"

"Yes, it feels really good."

"Your babies fighting in your womb makes you feel good?"

"Ummmm hummm?" replied Vikii. Her face had taken a silly expression, half closed eyes and small grin with her upper teeth slightly biting her lower lip. She was apparently remembering her experience with the twins.

"Real good?" asked Aelfgive.

"Better than making love," replied Vikii.

Aelfgive had found that hard to believe . . . in fact all of Vikii's friends had a hard time believing it. But if it were true, it just didn't seem fair. Pregnancy was not, from what Aelfgive had heard, much in the way of fun and games.

She turned and looked at the bed she and Avery had yet to consummate their marriage in. The wedding had been wonderful, all her friends had shown up, and then the reception afterwards had been a feast of merriment . . . until Besheba had shown up. From that point on, her marriage had been one of unmitigated hell.

Besheba had given them a gift, a deck of cards which could produce random effects if drawn. Vikii and others had advised them strongly to not take it, but neither she nor Avery listened. He had vanished and she had caught the plague. Then while she lay in bed, slowly burning up with fever on her wedding night. Vikii he had entered into her bridal chamber, and sat by her bed, and holding her hand, had whispered words of assurance to her that she would remain by her side until she had recovered. They would find a cure, she promised.

A dark Goddess had laughed in her fever filled dreams. For the next few days, she had tossed and turned as the plague ravaged her body. But in the end, she had recovered and returned to the throne room; strong enough to blast away an obnoxious halfling assassin who had been sitting on her throne and casting vulgar commentary on who she was and what she could do with him. Vikii had informed her of his presence and that had given her the drive to leap out of her bed and charge down to wreak her own particular brand of vengeance. Vikii had seemed pleased by chain of events, but Vharaun had looked at his wife in horror and dashed from the room. There was something there that she wasn't certain of yet. From all other signs, the two appeared to be very much in love.

Then, just one week after the investment ceremony, the Goddess of night, Shar had come and insisted on a private negotiation with Aelfgive in Vikii's apartments. Vikii had in particular been infuriated by this.

"My apartments? Where my children sleep? Where my husband sleeps?" she had snapped. She had commenced a long drawn out speech in Drow, to no one in particular, and mostly to herself in a low voice, which for those who were close enough, was nasty sounding enough to suggest it was not the sort of language even Drow used among each other, at least when they were trying to be polite. Then, from what Aelfgive had later learned, spent as much time as she could listening at the door and telling others to be quiet with dark looks and withering glances.

Mendel of course, would have none of that, and had pulled Vikii off to the side and insisted on talking with her.

"Do you still think you shouldn't be Regent and in command?" he had asked. "With our queen negotiating with Shar in your apartments? Do you see now why Avery selected you and not her to reign in his absence?"

"Do you realize that while you're trying to persuade me to engage in some palace coup against the rightful ruler," Vikii had shot back, "no one is listening at the door for any hint as to what Shar is trying to persuade Aelfgive to do?"

She had turned and returned to the door. Fortunately, Vharaum had been there listening in her absence. He had shook his head at Vikii, indicating that the two were whispering and no sound could be heard. Vikii nodded politely but inside she was seething since neither he nor Savarre had been particularly quiet earlier, arguing loudly enough about the situation so as to alert Shar that her voice could carry into the great room they were standing in. They were quiet now, hopefully they had learned something out of this incident, but it denied them a crucial card.

Finally, Aelfgive had come out. Shar was gone.

"Well?" asked Vikii.

"It's done," replied Aelfgive, looking relieved.

"How?" asked Vikii, anxious and pressing her.

"Shar will return Avery," answered Aelfgive with a smile.

"And the price?" asked Vikii. She had crossed her hands and looked very skeptical and a little horrified.

"She said I had to do her a favor," replied Aelfgive defensively.

"And that favor is?" insisted Vikii. She was not going to let up and Aelfgive found this annoying to say the least.

"Just a favor," replied Aelfgive.

"Details!" demanded Vikii. "The demon is always in the details. What is the favor?!"

"It's unspecified," answered Aelfgive. She didn't seem concerned.

"We're doomed," sighed Vikii. Then her features contorted and her eyes became bright red as the ancient rage of the drow bubbled up within her. "You have sold out Beldin!" she screamed at Aelfgive. "Do you have any idea the sort of favor you've agreed to do?"

"Damn you Vikii!" screamed Aelfgive back. "What if it were Vharaun? What if you knew YOUR beloved was in the Abyss tortured by Shar and her minions? What would you do?"

"Oh now we're going to be personal are we?" sneered Vikii. "Well I have news for you DARLING. I would not negotiate with Shar for his return. I would be a basket case, I would be in tears, I would be an utter ruin, BUT I WOULD NOT NEGOTIATE WITH SHAR! I'm not that STUPID."

"You know nothing of what I'm feeling," cried Aelfgive. "You don't know the HELL I'm going through."

"Mark my words, Dear," replied Vikii in a low voice filled with anger. "The day Shar comes for her 'favor' you will rue the day you made this deal. You'll regret it to your dying day . . . for she's only got one agenda, and that's Beldin's destruction."

"Then what do you think Shar's going to do?" asked Vharaun.

There was no answer, Vikii and Aelfgive were boring into each other with their eyes, one set bright red. For an instant it looked as if the two women, drow and half-elf, were about to explode into deep and lasting hatred for each other. Then Vikii closed her eyes and exhaled.

"I have no idea," she whispered. "But it will be nasty, and it will, in some fashion, render Beldin impotent.

But the next day Avery had returned. He and Aelfgive had made love finally. And she had lay in his arms contented and happy. The world had seemed right and she had made Vikii promise to not tell Avery what had happened. She would tell him at the right time she had assured her. Vikii had smirked and informed her that she had no intention of telling Avery anything. Aelfgive had gotten the impression that Vikii was simply waiting for something to happen.

Avery had done one thing after his return. He asked Vikii to help the new Seneschal. She agreed as this was mostly dealing with castle day to day functions, supplies, meals, repairs, and that sort of thing. She spent her days at her desk, doing paperwork, and negotiating with merchants and locals. She seemed happy with it, unlike her prior power wielding. Vharaun had observed that she wasn't worried to much about it since it the duties were, so long as Aelfgive and Galahad were reigning and capable, merely those of managing a household and she was feeling more like she was in her own home now. Avery was likewise pleased and had told Aelfgive at dinner the next night the effects of the days administration. "She has gotten some nice concessions from our merchants," he said to her with a grin. "I asked her how she was doing it and she had said, with that delicate smile of hers, that she could get more with a kind word and a whip, than with just a kind word."

Aelfgive had then looked down at her dinner plate, there were mushrooms and long thin deep fried objects on it.

"What are these?" she had asked, pointing to the deep fried food.

"Spider-legs," answered Avery munching on one. "They taste like crab legs actually, try one."

Aelfgive had lost her appetite at that moment and merely made small talk to Avery for the rest of the dinner.

Afterwards, they had gone to bed and made love. Then as they lay sleeping, Shar had come.

Shar woke up to see her smiling face leaning over her.

"My dearest," she said sweetly. "Now I have a little favor to ask of you."

"Yes Shar," replied Aelfgive in a whisper. There was something disturbing about her smile which was beginning to frighten her.

Shar waited until Aelfgive was up and standing by the bed.

"It's this . . ." said Shar. She presented Aelfgive with an ornate box, black and embellished in silver filigree pattern which Aelfgive found somewhat disturbing. The pattern seemed to suggest eternity with nothing. "Open it and you'll see."

Her hands slightly trembling, she opened the box and looked inside. What she saw frightened her, though she didn't yet know why. Within the box, was a curved dagger. It was black as night and seemed to ooze shadow from it.

"Take it darling," whispered Shar. "It's a gift from me to you."

Aelfgive, her hands shaking took the dagger from the box. It had a slight sticky texture to it and the pommel seemed to be alive.

"Now, for your favor," continued Shar. "Plant the blade in your husband's heart."

Aelfgive gasped.

"Our bargan," whispered Shar. "I've kept my end, I returned him to you. Now you must pay the price."

"I . . . I can't!" Aelfgive whimpered.

"Oh come now," replied Shar in a soothing voice. "Surely you could do better without him . . . And you owe me," she continued in a more sinister tone that threatened divine retribution. "You know that I am one of the great Goddesses of Toril . . . imagine my wrath."

"I can have Vikii raise him," thought Aelfgive to herself. "I can say I'm sorry . . . I can explain . . ."

Gritting her teeth, she plunged the dagger into Avery's chest.

"Very good," whispered Shar. "You pass the first test."

Avery's eyes burst open, he felt the stab of the blade, he saw his wife's tears.

"Why?" he choked, with blood spitting out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry!" cried Aelfgive. "I had to do it . . . I . . ."

But Avery was gone, vanished.

"He's with me again," explained Shar smiling. "Back in my realm."

"But!" cried Aelfgive. "That wasn't part of the bargain!"

"It wasn't?" replied Shar, appearing to be genuinely surprised. "I merely thought you wanted him for a few nights of lust and then returned to me."

"I wanted him back with me forever!" wept Aelfgive.

"Oh dear," replied Shar. "There appears to be some misunderstanding." She smiled. "No harm done," she continued. " I returned him to you, and you returned him back as the favor I asked, his life hanging on a thread. We can bargain again later, my pet." And she vanished.

Aelfgive threw herself upon the bed and wept loudly.

Vikii was sound asleep next to her husband Vharaun, a soft smile upon her face, when a ring at the door alerted her. Awakening, she noted the time and slipped out of the bed, pausing to kiss her husband gently upon his forehead. Paddling in her bare feet out to the hallway, she opened the door. Outside waiting was Punter. His eyes did a brief scan of her and then he signed and seemed to find the hallway behind her more interesting.

"Yes, slave?" asked Vikii.

"The Queen seems inconsolable within her chambers and she keeps crying for her husband," observed Punter. "If I may suggest you seeing to the issue?"

"Very good slave, I shall do so immediately," answered Vikii with a smile.

"And if I may suggest you not go to her naked?"

Vikii looked down and remembered her state of dress. She sighed.

"And excellent suggestion slave, I shall be appropriately dressed when I go." With that she closed the door and paused. For some reason or other, she felt the urge to giggle. So smirking, she returned to their bedroom and opened the cabinet and took out her long D'Vreeze colors formal, it's black and red colors set off with just the slightest hint of silver thread, as if some small spider and been scurrying about upon it. Pulling her two mithril medalions out over it and strapping her hip sheath to her side with her old dagger, she finished with a pair of spider silk slippers and quietly slipped down the halls to the royal chambers and knocked softly.

There was no answer . . . Vikii pressed her ear against the door and faintly could hear the crackle of the fire in the fireplace. Opening it, she quietly slipped in among the shadows and scanned the large room. There, down at the end, Aelfgive sat in a chair by the fire.

"Dearest Aelfi?" called Vikii. "What has happened?"

Aelfgive looked back at Vikii with tears in her eyes.

"I should have listened to you," she whimpered. "I should have been listening to you from the moment Besheba gave us those cards."

"I will not say 'I told you so.' I will not say 'I told you so.' I will not say 'I told you so.'" mused Vikii as she walked up to Aelfgive and standing behind her chair, placed her hands upon Aelfgive's shoulders and gently squeezed them.

"Tell me what happened, darling," whispered Vikii.

Aelfgive shuddered and told her the whole story, in all it's sordid details.

Vikii gasped when the words first test was mentioned.

"What Vikii?" asked Aelfgive. "I just assumed it was some silly little term she was using for me."

Vikii spoke after taking a breath and trying to remain calm. "First test Aelfi, means that Shar is not done with you nor has she intended to be done with you when she first offered to return Avery to you. What it means," explained Vikii, "is that you have unwittingly exposed yourself to Shar's means of controlling and dominating you. You have, by dealing with her and taking her 'gifts' now bound yourself to her will. She's going to 'test' you like she tests every one of her candidates who has power and ambition and by the time she is done with you, you'll be as cruel, vicious, and utterly arrogant as any Matron Mother in the Underdark."

"No I won't!" snapped Aelfgive.

"Darling?" whispered Vikii in that quiet gentle voice that sent shivers down Aelfgive's spine. "You've already stabbed your husband . . . how very drowish of you to do so."

Aelfgive was silent. A brooding fear of what she might become became manifest to her. She realized that if Shar simply had her do a series of 'little' things over and over again, she would slowly become so evil as to be utterly no better than any of Shar's worst devotees. She had easily justified her stabbing of Avery, she had assumed that this or that could be done afterwards to make it better. But Shar was ahead of her the entire way.

"What am I going to do?" she asked.

"We have two choices," sighed Vikii. "But both are fraught with peril."

"Then give them to me," said Aelfgive, staring ahead into the flames of the fire. It's flickering could be seen upon the surface of her eyes.

"The first is to go into the planes and find him and rescue him," observed Vikii. "And the chances of that are practically nil."

"The second?" asked Aelfgive.

"Take away her bargaining chips," said Vikii, smiling a wicked little grin.

"How can we do that? Vikii? She knows I love Avery. She knows I desperately want him back, I'll do just about anything to get him back. What can we do to take that hold she has on me from her?"

Vikii smiled.

"There's this little thing about evil, Aelfi," answered Vikii, "which makes what looks to be insane perfect sense."

"So how are you going take madness and turn it into wisdom?"

Vikii smiled and then paused. She looked into Aelfgive's eyes for a moment and then sighed.

"You're going to have to do something which no one in their right mind would do, darling," she said. "You're going to have to trust a drow."

* * *

"Methinks the child doth sleep too long," mused Goudie looking at Vikii and S'nae. He was holding his son, Daeron, only six hours old and sleeping soundly against his father's chest. "When shall he be ready for his first test of arms?"

Vikii looked at her daughter S'nae who looked back. The two women giggled.

"A few hours yet," suggested S'nae.

"At least," added Vikii.

Goudie sighed. "I chafe under the waiting!" he cried. "My son lays sound asleep at my chest and there are evils to fight and heroic deeds to accomplish!"

"And a hambone father to teach him," answered S'nae in between giggles. She walked over to Goudie and put her hand on his shoulder. "There will be time for that darling," she said. "You just be patient. If what Mamo says is true, he'll grow up faster than we want in the end."

Goudie looked up at S'nae, and then looked over to Vikii. "What place is this?" he queried. "Where a Paladin of Illmatar willingly places his trust in a Matron Mother of the Drow?"

"It's called Beldin," sighed S'nae gently holding Goudie's head and pulling it against her chest. "Hambone," she added.

* * *

Shar had come and was standing in the throne room before Aelfgive with a smile on her face. Aelfgive remained silent and featureless in expression. All the way down the hall, the Royal Guards of Beldin, the Bounders, the Ferrets, the very forces of the Karen stood in royal attention, the Paladins of Illmatar however, seething in the face of such dire evil. Yet, such was the power of the Goddess, that more than a few were also trembling and struggling to regain their courage. The mere fact that they were struggling indicated that they had never lost it in the first place, but such subtleties of virtue are lost in the crises of the moment.

"Hello my Pet," began Shar, her long black hair framing her perfectly round face. She was beautiful in an unearthly fashion, but her beauty was not the sort that one could long tolerate before being filled with the worst sorts of thoughts.

Beside Aelfgive, was Vikii, bowing low.

"And you . . . Matron . . . D'Vreeze," Shar managed to force out a formal greeting. It was clear that she did not enjoy the fact that Vikii was standing next to Aelfgive. Vikii's ability to get Lolth to self-destruct in the Plaza Tymora was well known among the Gods and Goddesses of Toril. Things like that were noted and remembered.

"There was no hate lost between us," mused Vikii once in a lighter moment, remembering the moment.

"Darling Shar," answered Vikii from her curtsy.

Shar of course knew that Vikii was merely being a classical formal Drow, faking friendship where there was none. She was struggling with her emotions as a consequence. She loved it when mortals feared her, and she loved it when they were utterly devoted, but Vikii was neither. She was supremely confidant however, the sort of Drow who would be clearly passing the Lolthtanchwi, were they being administrated.

"My pet," continued Shar. "We have need of a private discussion, if you may clear the court?"

Aelfgive clapped her hands. "Court is adjourned," she announced.

The hallway was slowly emptied with not a few whispers creating a low hiss in the stone lined chamber. Vikii remained standing at Aelfgive's left hand.

"You too," suggested Shar looking at Vikii. She paused and struggled before adding, "my dearest Matron D'Vreeze."

"Oh that won't be necessary," replied Vikii curtsying and smiling. "Aelfgive has felt it most prudent to have a skilled negotiator for the next bargaining session, so that there may be no further misunderstandings risking a mar in our most dear, loving, and excellent relationship."

"I'm so pleased that you show such prudence and courtesy," replied Shar through a smile which had the marks of grit teeth.

"The lies are coming on thick and fast," mused Aelfgive's thoughts. She was, per Vikii's advice (which had sounded very much like a pack of orders with an 'or else' hinted at), remaining silent and, as far as she could muster, serene and tranquil.

"Then I wish to acquire a deeper relationship with Aelfgive, my pet, so that Avery might be returned," began Shar.

"Ah yes, that's the issue isn't it?" replied Vikii. "The fate of our King."

"Of course," lied Shar. She had other plans in the making and her divine mind was racing furiously trying to find out just what Vikii had in mind. She was not going to underestimate Vikii, like Lolth had persistently done.

"We have decided that we no longer need him," continued Vikii. "So you may keep him and do what you will with him. Consider him our gift . . . our sacrifice . . . to you."

Aelfgive was now in a real sweat. Vikii had gone over this with her a dozen times and she knew that this was where their hope lied. But at the same time, it was such a horrifying risk they were taking. Would Avery, if he ever found out, forgive her?

"Sacrifice?" asked Shar with a slight screech in her voice.

"Oh yes," replied Vikii still smiling sweetly. "You know how we women are when we're given power. We like to use it. Aelfgive is fully Queen now and as Lady In Waiting, I rule behind her. What more could you expect from your pet and drow assistant?"

Shar was caught, but she only could grasp that on the edge as it were. Vikii was, in her mind, doing exactly what she would have done where she in Vikii's position, maneuver herself to achieve the most power possible. And Aelfgive, her Queenship assured, thanks to Vikii's prior efforts, guaranteed a spot of full power - indeed more power than any other organization in the Karen - for both of them.

Shar's mind raced. She had found Vikii's surrender of power to Aelfgive puzzling, but in her mind it now made sense. No force in the Karen would have permitted Vikii, neither a member of the royal blood or even a paladin, to rule Beldin on her own forever, but if Vikii could guarantee a puppet to hide her real control of the Kingdom? In Shar's mind, that had to be the reason. Vikii after all was Drow and made no secret of the fact that she was determined to be the new Matron Mother of a revived House D'Vreeze.

"Very clever dearest Vikii," smiled Shar. "But I have not heard my pet's desire on this. After all, she expressed most sincerely a desire to have him back at a later date."

"Oh, Vikii's idea is fine," Aelfgive managed to get out in a mostly calm manner.

Shar's eyes narrowed.

"It was frightening at first I'll admit, but I've come to realize that now I am the ruler of Beldin, now I have the power, and . . . I can always take another consort if I wish."

"What a charming way for a pet of Shar to start her advancement," mused Vikii. "To secure such power in a single stroke."

"So, you think to gain my favor by letting me keep Avery?" asked Shar, still seeking to find a way to regain her hold on Aelfgive.

"Of course," replied Aelfgive, she managed to get a smile on her face. Now that she was committed to this gambit, she was finding it easier and easier to embrace and believe in it.

Shar now was fully thwarted and she knew it. Aelfgive was, in her mind, doing just what any mortal Shar favored would do, seize the control of the power base. Avery was accordingly in the way and needed to be eliminated. Shar now began to sense that she was being used by them, and not the other way around. Nothing could have galled her more, to be used by mortals with no advantage on her part being gained to ensnare them deeper. She had taken Avery already, there was nothing more she could do to them on that count. And as she looked into Aelfgive, she realized that Aelfgive was pregnant with a male child. The heir was already assured then. . . Vikii must have known that already. It was now falling into place, Vikii had seduced Aelfgive into a lust for power and with the throne secure, there was nothing to stop them from ruling a very long time.

"We are so excited at this opportunity which you have given us," added Vikii. "And you can be certain that the traditional invocations we give you at the start of the Long Night will be added too from now on."

As Shar is the Goddess of Night, Beldin had always included a prayer to her at the start of the Long Night Festivities in the kingdom. Like most prayers to Shar by the public, it was more a request to be left alone than blessed but still she was acknowledged. Vikii's tone suggested that she might get a song to go with the prayer, but not much more. Her rage began to seethe. There was no way she was going to let Vikii gain an advantage by her actions. But on the surface, Shar smiled, for in her mind, Vikii had made a very crucial mistake. She had mentioned the power they were going to get. That was clearly the motive. Well if she wanted power, Shar would see that she didn't get it.

"No!" cried Shar. "I can not allow this any longer!"

"Darling Shar please!" Vikii's tone took on a slant which suggested begging.

"My charming pet" continued Shar. "You have proven yourself worthy in my eyes. Accordingly, I return your husband to you."

Avery appeared standing in the throne room, perfectly healthy, and Shar was gone.

Vikii smiled as Aelfgive leaped from her chair, threw herself into Avery's arms, and wept tears of joy.

It was dinner time in the Castle. Aelfgive, her husband Avery, Vikii and Vharaun, were having a dinner to celebrate the restoration of the Kingdom.

"You remember nothing?" asked Aelfgive looking at her husband with shock . . . and not a little relief.

"I remember falling asleep in your arms my love," replied Avery, "and awakened standing in the throne room with you dashing towards me."

"But what I can't understand," asked Vharaun. "Is how you knew that Shar would return him without extracting a hard and damning concession from you."

"We didn't," admitted Vikii.

Aelfgive gasped.

"But Vikii!" she cried. "You said it was a sure thing."

"A sure thing is a surfacer term I've heard for a gambling option," answered Vikii. "Is that not so? Or did I use the wrong term for it?"

"It's a bit of vulgar slang," replied Avery. "Though not often used by the upper class."

"But the point is," said Vikii. "It was the most probable way that the matter would turn out, almost certain, but should Shar had proven a bit less evil than I suspected, not an iron clad guarantee."

"But!" persisted Vharaun looking at his wife. "How did you even know it was probable."

"Shar hates all life and existance," answered Vikii. "She despises me likewise and I know it. The last thing she would want is to see me and Aelfgive do is gain something she values by her actions with no gain for her. Shar loves power with a passion. She wants to destroy the entire world. She's not going to share that. I left her with no other option. Either return Avery or see me rule Beldin through Aelfi and Aelfwine free of her influence. It was the only card she had left to play."

"You would not have seen me so malleable," snapped Aelfgive. She found Vikii's statements rather disconcerting.

"How do we know?" answered Vikii with a smile which suggested a bit of a challenge behind it. "I've never tried."

Aelfgive's eyes narrowed, but after a moment softened. After all, Vikii had done a great deal to put her into full and legitimate rule during Avery's absence and clearly she had not tried to rule or manipulate Aelfgive. She had always waited for Aelfgive's initiative, even apparently, when it had galled her to no end.

"But she could have just killed our king for spite!" objected Vharaun.

"Then we rule," finished Vikii smiling. "Same option. Keep Avery or kill him, either way, Aelfgive rules and I'm #2, a nice place, less chance of assassination."

"Not very drowish," mused Vharaun. "But there's a wisdom to it our people would do well to learn."

"It was a noble gamble," agreed Avery, "And as I remember none of my torment, one I can appreciate for my sake. Had I had remembered the whole sordid affair, I might not be so . . . generous."

"But had that not worked, I had another option available for us," finished Vikii.

"And that is?" asked Aelfgive.

"Two spells which not even the God's can entirely thwart. Only Kelemvor can put a halt to them, but he must negotiate first to offer an alternative," said Vikii. "The wish and miracle spell."

"Yes!" shouted Vharaun slamming the table with excitement. "Neither could have kept Shar's hold on Avery. He would have been returned to us with the casting of either."

"Or at least wish," mused Aelfgive.

"Would not have been easy to get one," admitted Vikii. "But I suspect less fraught with peril than the planes."

Avery, Vharaun, and Aelfgive agreed with that.

"Once again, Matron Vikii," said Avery, "the kingdom is in your debt. What would you ask of us."

"A tenday of delicious boredom with my husband," mused Vikii leaning over and pulling Vharaun to her with her right arm. She nuzzled his shoulder.

"A tenday with me would be boring?" asked Vharaun with a slight grin on his face.

"Oh you are impossible!" snapped Vikii laughing while batting him with her palm.

And so it was entered into the annals of the history of Beldin . . .

On Flamerule the 27th, Lathansday, in the year 1372 Dalereckoning:

The Queen and her Lady In Waiting bluffed a Goddess and so saved the King.

* * *

It would be another three days before S'nae would be moving back to her and Goudie's quarters. Vikii and Delanna were both insistent that S'nae remain to fully recover. Goudie agreed provided he might also stay so as to be with his wife and son and Vikii informed him that she would have it no other way. After all, he was S'nae's favi. When S'nae heard this she began to cry.

"What's with favi?" asked Melody to Delanna as she was collecting her things before heading back to the college.

"Favi," answered Delanna. "Is an affectionate derivative of Favored Consort which Vikii first used with Vharaun. It means that Vikii has accepted Goudie as a full member of House D'Vreeze.

"Well I told S'nae that her mother would accept him once she had children by him," concluded Melody. She felt vindicated.

Delanna shook her head. "You made a lucky guess," she said. "Vikii has been terrified of what people would do to any half-drow that her daughters bore. So she was very angry with S'nae for marrying Goudie."

"And full drow would have been better?" Melody had a hard time following that line of reasoning.

"In Vikii's mind, yes. Full drow can always retreat back into the Underdark. House D'Vreeze could always, if they had to, find a cave to live in and vanish from the surface. But half-drow belong to neither and so would be accepted by neither."

Melody pondered this for a moment. "But I suppose if she and Goudie live in the Karen for the rest of their lives, will it matter? The Karen has all sorts of people living here. When has an adventurer been anything but different from everyone else?"

"In truth," laughed Delanna. "When has anyone not been entirely different from anyone else? But yes Melody, everyone in the Karen has accepted the D'Vreeze. They are now simply one more bit of color in the valley. Vikii has finally come to realize that and suddenly, it's not important any more than all her daughters marry only drow. But during the birth, she also discovered that S'nae fell in love with Goudie because Goudie reminded S'nae of her father, whom S'nae loved dearly. As did Vikii. It's really hard to hate a man who reminds you off all the good things your man had once upon a time."

Melody nodded. She slung her backpack over her shoulders, stuffed with her dirty laundry and bits of snack foods left over and she walked out of the town house and down the street. She mused for a moment. A matron mother's house, on a side street in Beldin, and no one cared, because they were all part of the Karen River Valley. And so Melody, reminded of this fact, began to sing a song, a song everyone on the street recognized as she walked in rhythm down the street to the Bardic college.

_We're children of the Karen,_  
_Between the fog and foam,_  
_The northern lights above us,_  
_Will light us to our home._

_These cattle we have tended,_  
_These apples we have grown,_  
_These fences we have mended,_  
_These green fields we have sown._

_We're children of the Karen,_  
_And here we'll make our stand,_  
_We will not yield or falter,_  
_We're standing on our land._

_Against the coldest winter,_  
_The winds of ice that blow,_  
_Against the fiercest creature,_  
_His rage and his bellow._

_We're Children of the Karen,_  
_And never will we roam,_  
_And hand in hand will walk down,_  
_The pathways to our home._

* * *

**And so ends another story collection. This selection represents about 50% of what I wrote while adventuring on two servers, the first was named Taliv where Vikii first was established as a character. The lion's share of her RP was on Aerlith while she made brief cameos on the Beldin server as an NPC. **

**The chief reason why I choose not to include any more was that the rest is mostly political intrigue which, while fun to read by the players of Aerlith, would be sabotaged by the multitude of characters which fan fic reader could not, in any fashion, appreciate without thousands of words to bring them up to par in comprehension. And there were dozens of such characters given the rapid turn over of player's favorites. It was one political intrigue which resulted in the miscarriage of Vikii's triplets. And it's a pity I can't publish it here since it brings back a fun memory. Namely Vikii's reputation for successfully staging assassinations while she stood there unarmored and unarmed talking politely. The one player was getting unnerved by the sudden pressure on his character. Other players were telling him what Vikii was going to do to him. Like so many players, he thought playing an evil character was cool, but didn't want to accept the consequences of that behavior. Our IC confrontation in particular I remember because he suddenly shifted into OOC.**

**"Signew said you would not mind," He argued. Signew was his partner in the kidnapping, and the brains behind the scheme.  
**

**"I don't," I replied. "You did not 'make' Vikii miscarry the triplets. I believe in playing with the cards I was dealt with and you have respected my intellectual property in that you have not killed the twins, but merely kidnapped them. It's a load of drama and fun to RP. But you have to understand, if you had pulled this stunt on Goudie or Keyna, you could have, if you played your cards right, gotten them to promise to not strike at you afterwards and been safe since both of them would have kept their word. But Vikii's drow dude. And that means something else entirely."**

**Two days later, the player who's character Onir had been assassinated by Vikii just six months prior, had a new character who got Signew, for Vikii, per her request. Of course she had offered to pay. But he performed the service on the house. Signew had been famous for the assassination attempts he had avoided up to that point. This added to Vikii's luster****. When it became clear to Signew's partner that Vikii was going to get him, and the DM's could not stop it (and one did try), he was not seen on the server again. **  


**The other story I would have liked to include was Vikii's and Vharaun's wedding night. It was written in a comical fashion, with the two of them trying to make love while other characters kept knocking on the door wanting to give little wedding gifts or blessings or such not noting that when a newlywed couple goes behind closed doors, they are not to be disturbed. That story ends with Bobo chasing the last visitor after Vikii keens 'Halfling dinner!'. While I did not get graphic, there was a lot of suggestive language and one of the women who read it referenced it in such a fashion that she seemed to think it was female porn. So I decided to shelve it.  
**


End file.
